


Look On Up

by seizethejongdae



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sports, Explicit Language, FC Bayern München, Football | Soccer, M/M, heavy bias towards Bayern, occasional capslock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-21
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-16 12:08:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 46,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8101825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seizethejongdae/pseuds/seizethejongdae
Summary: After arrogant football player Kim Jongdae transfers on loan to the football club of his dreams, FC Bayern Munich, he expects titles won, goals scored, and records broken. But he most definitely did not expect to encounter a few bumps along the way….and especially that one attractive journalist he would do anything to score an interview with.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted in the 2016 Round 4 of Chenpionships.
> 
> For the prompter who inspired me with such a wonderful prompt, for Jongdae who is always the best, and for Bastian who retired this year from the GNT.

“Why do you think you’ll be a good signing for this club?” one reporter asked while the sound of clicking cameras and scribbling pens filled the press room.  
  
It was a bit of a rude question, as it should have been already established that he was a good fit for the club since, well…here he was in the process of officially signing for them right now…  
  
Growing up, he had always spent his free afternoons when he was not training or practicing football laying in the grassy pitch staring at the clouds that drifted above while he dreamed of the days he’d finally be a professional player who scored magnificent goals and who would have the adoring crowd screaming his name every game.  
  
When he was six…ten…thirteen, such a dream seemed so out of reach just like the clouds he gazed at so often.  
  
So naturally, he wanted to pull those wispy dreams towards him until they were real, right here, so close until he could touch them, and thus he often practiced as much as he could until the throbbing soreness he felt in his muscles faded into a dull, tolerable pain, until he could dance with the ball between his feet across the field with his eyes closed, until he could shoot the ball and turn around while knowing it would sail into the back of the goal.  
  
Hard work, raw talent, and incredible skill were a deadly combination in an athlete that dreamed of standing among the best, so as his technique improved dangerously fast, so did his confident, unwavering belief in himself, as he knew it would only be a matter of time before someone would sign him to play professionally.  
  
And sure enough, South Korean football club Jeonbuk HM had noticed his talent and charisma on the pitch and signed him when he was nineteen.  
  
The next years of his life flew by with records broken, goals scored, games won, so it was only right and expected when one of the greatest football clubs in the world had asked him to play for them on loan for a year.  
  
FC Bayern Munich.  
  
What else could he have said except this?  
  
_Yes. Of course._  
  
And now he was here.  
  
“Because I’m Kim Jongdae,” Jongdae nodded confidently as he spoke into the microphone with the best German he could muster while the reporter recorded his response looking quite amused.  
  
And now here he was in Munich, here in Bayern’s press conference room, here right now on the verge of a new beginning.  
  
“You’re quite sure that you’ll make an impact here then? Bayern already has the likes and legends of Lewandowski, Müller, Robben…They are not lacking in any attacking talent. Why would they sign another offensive midfielder?” Another asked, peering at Jongdae curiously.  
  
Ah.  
  
Doubt.  
  
If Jongdae were any less confident in himself, he would have felt actually offended that these reporters were questioning his ability and his talent. But since he wasn’t, he let the remarks brush off of him and smiled good-naturedly.  
  
“I can repeat the question again a little slower if you need,” the journalist said as Jongdae paused a little too long for her liking.  
  
“Excuse me, but I think you must have not done your research before coming here,” Jongdae sweetly said, not sounding very sorry at all, “If you’ve examined even a month’s worth of my records at my old club, you’ll realize why I’m here.”  
  
“Exactly,” Karl-Heinz Rummenigge, the chief executive of the club, added from his seat beside Jongdae, “Bayern is always looking to sign young, talented players who we know will make a difference in the game from the very seconds they step out onto the pitch. Jongdae is exactly the type of creative talent we always want.”  
  
“We are excited to see how Jongdae will contribute to the team,” Matthias Sammer, the sporting director affirmed as he sat on Jongdae’s other side, “Hopefully with his help we can expect another round of honors and wins this season.”  
  
The journalists took their turns continuing to ask Jongdae questions about the signing, what he expected from it, what he hoped to take from the experience, what he’d do after the one year loan was over.  
  
So he continued answering calmly, slowing down his speech to try and remember all the German he learned fast enough. The words still sounded unfamiliar when he spoke, but he hoped his enthusiasm translated well.  
  
And finally, the press conference was over, and as the photographers swarmed to the front of the room, Jongdae was handed his official contract to sign.  
  
There.  
  
In black and white in both German and Korean, there it was.  
  
Jongdae’s one-year loan contract with Bayern.  
  
Without any further thought or hesitation, Jongdae eagerly picked up the provided pen and signed his name on the line, signed his near future away, signed with his heart bursting with ecstatic pride. And when he finished adding his trademark star to the end of his signature, he looked up to the flashing cameras to indulge them in a winning, pleased grin.  
  
“Jongdae will be our new number thirty-three,” Karl-Heinz announced as he unveiled Jongdae’s new jersey and held it out for him to take.  
  
Breathless, Jongdae reached out with trembling fingers to take that beautifully bold, red jersey and beamed as he held it across his chest. The contract was legalistic proof that he had been officially signed, but this…this was the physical manifestation of the commitment he’d make to this team.  


 

_Bayern München_

 

 

_33_

_Kim_

  
  
It was a pity that it was still only summer because Jongdae could not wait until the fall so he could play his first official game in this beautiful red kit, to fight for the crest on the front of his jersey, to make his mark in the history of this incredible club.  
  
His club now.  
  
“Ladies and Gentlemen, our newest signing—“ Matthias Sammer began to say as he gestured towards Jongdae excitedly.  
  
“Kim Jongdae!”  
  
And the room erupted in applause as cameras continued to click and flash. Jongdae didn’t know how much longer the photographers were going to continue to snap pictures of the same moments over and over and over again, but he was sure he could keep smiling for however long it would take because the devastating euphoria and satisfied contentment he felt in this moment were so incredibly overwhelming.  
  
Finally, his talents were being recognized as a football player.  
  
Finally, the rest of the world would see something in him that he himself had been seeing for so long.  
  
Finally, he was going to get the recognition he deserved.  
  
After the press conference finally ended, Jongdae greeted the crowd, politely waving aside lingering journalists to meet the security team outside.  
  
“Careful. There are some paparazzi outside who want pictures and won’t hesitate to get as close as they want to you,” Karl-Heinz warned.  
  
Jongdae nodded, adjusted the cuffs of his suit, and paused just before the doors.  
  
Deep breath. Shoulders back. Chin up.  
  
Then the doors of the conference room swung open, and Jongdae was instantly greeted with more clicks and lights as thousands of cameras seemed to focus all on him. The security team did their best to secure a path in which Jongdae could travel through, but in the meantime, Jongdae entertained the cameras for a bit, flashing smiles he knew would look stunning in HD quality after they were printed on whatever tabloid magazines these people worked for. After all, they were here for just him anyways.  
  
However, after a bit, the flashing lights began to take their toll, and as they finally burst through the doors outside, Jongdae instantly raised his eyes to the horizon above and stared at the soft clouds instead to rest his eyes.  
  
“We’ll be in touch with your practice and training schedule,” Matthias said as he clapped Jongdae on the back.  
  
“You know your way around Munich by now, right? We can send one of the club cars to drive you home if you need a fast escape from these people,” Karl-Heinz said.  
  
“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine! Thank you for everything,” Jongdae said before bowing in gratitude.  
  
Jongdae didn’t have a car, and the nearest U-Bahn station was a bit of a walk away…And as much as he liked the attention, he couldn’t have the paparazzi following him all the way home.  
  
So, breaking free of the crowd, Jongdae breathed in the fresh air, watched the clouds drift by for a split second as the cameras stopped to take pictures of him just standing there, and without any further notice he let out a high-spirited laugh and sprinted away as fast as he could, feeling as if he was soaring among the clouds.  
  
Jongdae ran through the streets of Munich, weaving past cobble-stoned roads, tall trees, dodging past bikers until he was all alone, finally all alone, just running as quickly as he could, just living as loudly as he could, just loving as passionately as he could.  
  
Eventually, even though he was used to running for long periods of time due to the nature of his job, Jongdae finally succumbed to exhaustion, panting as he sank to his knees and collapsed near a fountain as he caught his breath. He could feel the stares of curious civilians on him as he kneeled next to the fountain, but all he could focus on was the sparkling reflection of the sky in the fountain’s rippled water.  
  
After he could breathe normally again, Jongdae realized he really had no idea which part of Munich he had ended up in, so after wandering around and asking for directions, Jongdae managed to find the nearest U-Bahn station and finally headed home.  
  
Perhaps it was a mistake to not buy or bring a car to Munich, and perhaps it was a mistake to find a private house a little far away from the training site and stadium instead of a closer apartment, but Jongdae was happy…and that was enough.  
  
The money he saved by commuting instead of driving was money he could spend on rent, and the time he spent commuting to practice and games could be saved by daydreaming of glorious days ahead.  
  
The ride home was uneventful, as Jongdae went unnoticed by any of the busy commuters.  
  
But that was okay.  
  
One day they would recognize him.  
  
For a moment, Jongdae daydreamed of little, adoring kids shyly asking him for a picture while his name was displayed proudly on the backs of their jerseys.  
  
When it was finally his stop, Jongdae happily left, content with walking the rest of the way to his quiet house in some sleepy residential neighborhood.  
  
A phone call interrupted him as he was about to fish his keys out of his pocket, and after glancing at the name, he wondered what it could be now.  
  
“Jongdae, I just sent you your schedule, okay? Pre-season still has not officially started, so there’s not many official activities…But it’s really good to have you here,” Matthias Sammer said before wishing him the best.  
  
“Thanks so much…I’m ready to help continue Bayern’s success domestically and internationally,” Jongdae confidently said before he hung up.  
  
This was too easy.  
  
All he’d have to do was impress everyone and hope they’d see that he was everything amazing he saw himself to be and so much more, and at the end of the season, hopefully he’d sign a full term contract with Bayern after his loan ended.  
  
But of course he’d be able to.  
  
He was Kim Jongdae after all.  
  
One of the best young, rising football players out there.  
  
Pleased, Jongdae finished pulling out the keys to his house and opened the door.  
  
“I’m home,” he quietly announced, and while it still didn’t feel like home, he hoped saying those words would eventually help make it feel more like home. One day.  
  
Collapsing on the couch with a sigh, Jongdae closed his eyes and nestled into the pillows of his couch, ready to exhaustedly rest for however long he needed to recover from such a big day.  
  
“Hey,” Jongdae said, sleepily opening an eye as a meow greeted him.  
  
Jongdae could not bring his parents, his brother, or his friends with him when he departed for Munich, but at least he could bring his cat.  
  
Ollie, proudly given to Jongdae by his brother when he had first signed with Jeonbuk HM, was a temperamental gray cat that was sweet most of the time…but insisted on loudly hissing and pouncing at everything that moved other times.  
  
Jongdae loved him anyways.  
  
And in moments like these, Jongdae was happy to just silently sit on the couch, hugging Ollie to his chest as he purred gently.  
  
It was so easy to be loud, to be brash, to be arrogant when he was on the pitch, but in his solitude, in these times at home by himself, Jongdae was glad he could relax comfortably and quietly without having to say anything or do anything to uphold his name and reputation.  
  
After a while, Jongdae reached over to grab the remote and turned on his TV so he could watch the current summer UEFA European Championship games that were playing now.  
  
He was particularly looking forward to Germany’s games, as many of his teammates played for the national German team. Hopefully they’d pull through as far as they could possibly go.  
  
Jongdae briefly thought pityingly at David Alaba his teammate at Bayern whose Austrian side had crashed out so early in the tournament. He had looked forward to meeting him, but it seemed that Alaba was going to stay in Austria a bit before heading back for pre-season.  
  
But that was no matter. Jongdae was here to train, with his teammates or without, and he was ready to face whatever was coming his way head on, shoulders straight, and chin up.  
  


 

ϟ

  
  
Jongdae continued training during the day and catching glimpses of the Euro games whenever he could during the evening. Germany was still in the tournament, so Jongdae would have to wait a bit for his first opportunity to meet most of his team, as the majority of them were still off for the summer in France playing for the chance to win.  
  
So he’d have to wait and see if Thomas Müller was as loudly passionate as he seemed in person, if Manuel Neuer was as stubbornly perfectionistic as he appeared, if Philipp Lahm was every bit the best captain everyone insisted he was.  
  
But he wouldn’t have to wait long before meeting one of Bayern’s newer players, though.  
  
He hadn’t anticipated the meeting at all, as all he was trying to do was practice some weight training at a local gym. The sports facility at Bayern was well equipped, but on days when he still wanted to work out and didn’t want to go all the way to their facility, he’d just visit this gym.  
  
Cheerfully, he greeted the regulars he had met with a wave, and one of them put down her weights to yell out a greeting.  
  
“I want to see you lifting two times what you lifted last time by the end of today, okay?” she called.  
  
“You know it,” Jongdae shouted back before putting his earphones in and scrolling through the perfect workout music.  
  
He was just about to get lost in the beautiful music, the frantic rhythms, the urgent tempo of the song and begin training before someone tapped him on the shoulder.  
  
Turning, Jongdae paused his music and lifted one earbud out of his ear to meet the stranger.  
  
“Jongdae?” the person asked hopefully.  
  
“…Yes?” Jongdae asked, unsure of who this was.  
  
“What do you mean yes. Don’t you recognize me?” the stranger chuckled, though Jongdae noticed a bit of disappointment creeping into his voice.  
  
Who?  
  
Jongdae tried again, taking a step backwards to look at the person again, to try and recall any memories he had with him…He looked curiously at the stranger’s fluffy brown hair….warm brown eyes…and–  
  
Oh.  
  
_Oh_.  
  
“Baekhyun?” Jongdae incredulously asked again.  
  
_Byun Baekhyun?_  
  
“Jongdae!” Baekhyun cheerfully said, throwing his arms open before he hugged him tightly. Jongdae took another step backwards in order to not fall from the force of Baekhyun’s hug as he awkwardly hugged him back.  
  
To be honest, Jongdae forgot that Baekhyun had also signed on loan to Bayern the year before, too, as back in South Korea, the two of them had played for different clubs. And when Jongdae finally got called up to the national South Korean football team, he had remembered training and playing briefly with Baekhyun, though the two of them had never spent much time together.  
  
But now looking back, Jongdae seemed to have made a deep, lasting impression on Baekhyun just from the way Baekhyun was still grinning fondly at him.  
  
And now Jongdae supposed they were catching up now, though it was more of Baekhyun excitedly asking him how Jongdae had been since their last national game together, if he was excited for the start of his first Bundesliga season, if he was ready to compete with others for the chance at the starting lineup. But as much as Jongdae loved having a conversation in Korean instead of the stilted German he fumbled around with, he was here to train. Thankfully, Baekhyun understood.  
  
“Oh, don’t mind me interrupting your training! Sorry, I got excited at seeing an old friend,” Baekhyun said as he sat down on the nearby bench watching Jongdae with a smile.  
  
“Thanks. It was nice to catch up, Baekhyun,” Jongdae smiled as he was preparing to put his music back in his ears.  
  
“What are you listening to?” Baekhyun suddenly asked, causing Jongdae to pause his music again to answer.  
  
“Oh…just some really hardcore stuff,” Jongdae nodded, “Something to really inspire me when I work out, you know?”  
  
“Wow yeah for real! What’s the name of the band or the artist?” Baekhyun asked, picking up a fifty-pound weight from the nearby rack.  
  
“Vivaldi,” Jongdae said after hesitating for a moment, a bit impatient to get back to the opening violin rifts of Vivaldi’s “Winter.”  
  
“Vivaldi? That sounds really metal. Maybe we can blast it during training and see what everyone else thinks,” Baekhyun joked as he began lifting the weight effortlessly.  
  
“Yeah, maybe,” Jongdae laughed, unsure of how people would react when they discovered that hardcore football player Kim Jongdae worked out to and enjoyed classical music. He wasn’t ashamed of it at all, but he did not want people asking him why he preferred music without words.  
  
The two of them finally fell into a comfortable silence as they trained, and while Jongdae was immersed in his bench pressing routine, he was vaguely aware of Baekhyun gazing at him from his seat as well.  
  
It was a shame Jongdae hadn’t remembered Baekhyun earlier, as he could have used the friendly company in Munich when he first arrived, already feeling traces of homesickness no matter how excited or proud he was to be here.  
  
But Baekhyun would not fall that easily from Jongdae’s memory again, as he managed to sneak himself into Jongdae’s daily routine. Even though Baekhyun would have to go out of his way to pick Jongdae up from his flat and drive them to practice, he insisted on doing so. And on such days, Jongdae would find Baekhyun leaning on his car outside of his house waiting for Jongdae with a smile.  
  
It was a bit odd how nice Baekhyun was to him and how much effort he spent driving Jongdae around, and Jongdae only half accepted Baekhyun’s reason that it was just because Jongdae just moved here and that it wasn’t any problem at all. But Jongdae had gritted his teeth every day when Baekhyun blasted some pop song on the radio, trying his best to ignore the lyrics as they drove through the streets of Munich. He didn’t want to seem like a bother and ask Baekhyun to turn it off because Baekhyun enjoyed singing along as loudly as he could, so Jongdae kept quiet and tried focusing instead on the sights and his breathing they passed along the way.  
  
Baekhyun also liked inviting himself into his house whenever he drove them back from practice. Jongdae didn’t mind that much, as having company over was nice since he usually would only have Ollie to one-sidedly talk to if he didn’t want to call his friends or his family.  
  
Oftentimes they would sit on Jongdae’s couch and watch the Euro cup games…one after the other after the other…until Ollie grew restless and pounced on their laps with an angry hiss.  
  
“Isn’t it odd to be watching our teammates like this?” Baekhyun said one day when they were watching the German national team play Italy, “I mean…for me it is at least since I’m used to seeing them in person.”  
  
“Baekhyun, aren’t all matches televised anyways,” Jongdae said, absent-mindedly scratching Ollie’s ears.  
  
“True, but I’m just used to seeing them wear red…and me playing with them,” Baekhyun said until the commentator interrupted them.  
  


 

WHAT A SHOT ON GOAL FOR THOMAS MÜLLER! WILL TODAY BE THE DAY HE FINALLY NETS IN HIS ELUSIVE EURO GOAL?

  
  
“You’ll like him when you guys finally meet,” Baekhyun said, gesturing towards Thomas as his frustrated self filled the screen, “Everyone usually does.”  
  
“Is he as loud and special as everyone says,” Jongdae said.  
  
“Even more so, and talented, too,” Baekhyun assured Jongdae before the camera panned to a group of reporters stoically sitting and taking notes about the game. One attractive journalist dressed in a sleek, black button up with his sleeves rolled up his arms caught Jongdae’s eye…and Jongdae admired the way he took notes thoughtfully and observed the game with a cool demeanor behind dark framed glasses before the camera refocused on the players exiting the pitch following the end of the game’s first half.  
  
It seemed, however, that today wasn’t Thomas’ day, as for the rest of the game Jongdae and Baekhyun tensely watched together, he didn’t manage to score a single goal. Not even a penalty when the match was forced to decide its victor through a penalty shootout after a 1-1 tie that Jongdae and Baekhyun nervously watched, leaping from their seats with a scream every time a German player scored, yelling in frustration when Italy also equalized, and finally feeling like they had lost decades of their life after they fell back onto the couch in relief as they watched Germany celebrate their hard-won win.  
  
Jongdae still felt sorry for Thomas though…and while he had not known the feeling lately, he empathized with that feeling of failing to score or perform up to personal standards.  
  


 

ϟ

  
  
Jongdae would not have to wait to meet two other members of Bayern, however, and when he had received the call that pre-season could start early, he showed up with Baekhyun on Säbener Straße and met Arjen Robben and Holger Badstuber. Bayern trained mostly at Säbener Straße, with some training sessions open to public, and both Robben and Badstuber were busy signing jerseys and taking selfies with adoring fans while Jongdae wistfully dreamed of the day fans would scream his name and ask him to sign their jerseys as well.  
  
But after training started, Robben and Badstuber immediately focused on the drills and practice, as they were both recovering from injuries and eager to get back to playing regularly again.  
  
Arjen was as talented as expected with a killer left foot and extreme agility even in his older age, and he preferred to work quietly to focus on himself and his training. But that didn’t stop Baekhyun from trailing after him cheerfully and endearingly asking him how he had been while they trained.  
  
Holger, a defender, however, trained alongside Jongdae in the meantime and chatted briefly with him. He had kindly asked how Jongdae liked Munich so far before offering to show him around if he wanted.  
  
Jongdae enjoyed training immensely, enjoying the ways they all switched off, rotated positions and drills, and took their turns practicing corner kicks and finessing their skills. Individual talent was nothing if he didn’t have a good team he loved to play with and trusted to work with. And from just meeting these two players and Baekhyun, Jongdae already loved his team.  
  
Later on, Jongdae kicked his shoes off before eagerly running to the couch to watch Germany’s semifinal game against the host nation, France. For the whole time, just like always, Jongdae caught himself screaming, his feet jumping up as the match played on, his heart thumping with such erratic excitement and anticipation.  
  
It was one thing to play football, to live the game everyone watched, to run and passionately play until the game was either lost or won, but it was a whole other experience to watch the game just like everyone else and feel that rush of overwhelming emotion every time the ball sailed across the pitch, every time players would execute great plays and weave around defenders to send the ball off to the goal, every time a referee made a call Jongdae objected with, every time someone finally scored.  
  
Too bad football never always worked out the way everyone wanted all the time though, and as the camera briefly flashed towards a group of journalists, one of them looking strangely familiar, Jongdae prepared himself for a moment before the camera flashed back on the defeated faces of the national German team…a team that, after a thrilling campaign in the Euros, had finally bowed their heads and prepared to head home after losing out to France in the semifinals. They were so close. So close to the finals.   
  


 

WHAT A SHAME FOR GERMANY…CAPTAIN BASTIAN SCHWEINSTEIGER LOOKS DISTRAUGHT AS HIS TEAMMATES, TOO, FAIL TO CONTAIN THEIR CRUSHING DISAPPOINTMENT. THERE’S SPECULATION THAT HE MAY RETIRE FROM INTERNATIONAL DUTY AFTER –

  
  
Jongdae immediately turned off the TV, unable to bear the devastated, defeated faces of them all.  
  
In football, there was no way to play without feeling every single emotion completely. Teams felt every win as hard as they felt every loss, and no matter which club or country crest were stitched onto the fronts of their jerseys, every single player could agree that there was no other sport quite like this one.  
  
But Germany’s loss would mean that Jongdae could meet most of his teammates now and see what other brilliant players he’d be able to work with after they came back to Munich.  
  
Thomas Müller was as legend and loud as expected, filling Säbener Straße with his encouraging yells, occasionally riding the golf cart wildly around the pitch, and instigating training games. Because he could.  
  
Manuel Neuer their goalkeeper was as every bit talented and awe-inspiring as he seemed when Jongdae watched him practice stopping shots. Briefly, he remembered how his teammates back home had teased him when they learned he was transferring here.  
  
_Aren’t Bayern full of arrogant players like him?  
  
Jongdae, you’ll fit right in._  
  
Jongdae remembered just smiling in reply.  
  
Because weren’t they allowed to be when they were the best in the world?  
  
All the players Jongdae met during pre-season seemed to have that confident, sometimes arrogant aura…All except Philipp Lahm, their captain.  
  
Philipp Lahm was about Jongdae’s height, so Jongdae didn’t immediately feel intimidated by him. He should have, honestly, because a living legend was training next to him _wow_. But he didn’t. Philipp Lahm encouraged everyone and demonstrated some of the best footwork and defensive tackles Jongdae had ever seen all while just humbly nodding every time he did something spectacular instead of letting out a giant cheer like Thomas Müller did.  
  
Even though there was still some language barrier, as Jongdae preferred to hang back with Baekhyun to talk in Korean when the German players would chat rapidly in German, the tension was gone, especially after Philipp welcomed him in and beckoned for them to join before slowing down the pace of their conversation so Jongdae could understand. After that, Philipp sometimes taught him little German phrases here and there and helped him with his pronunciation so Jongdae could later do full press conferences and interviews by himself with no help.  
  
And Thomas…  
  
Thomas taught him Bavarian swears.  
  


 

ϟ

  
  
But as Jongdae soon found out, transferring to the club he thought was the best in the world was only half the hardest part.  
  
Because the hardest part after that was fighting for a spot in the starting lineup.  
  
Jongdae was aching to play, to prove himself, and to show what he was capable of. But as the pre-season friendly games came and went, Jongdae was left sitting on the bench watching jealously as teammates played on the pitch. Everyone at Bayern was immensely talented and threatening during games, so Jongdae wondered when he would get an official chance to show how well he worked with the team and to finally _play_.  
  
Baekhyun, however, was all too happy to have Jongdae next to him on the bench, and often engaged him in chatter about how they thought their team was doing.  
  
“You’re lucky to be on the bench with me, Jongdae,” Baekhyun would often say.  
  
“But I want to _play_ ,” Jongdae said, shaking his legs restlessly, yearning to run onto the pitch as the clouds above looked upon them all and witnessed the fantastic things Jongdae could do, “I want to show them what I can do. Why would they sign me but not let me play?”  
  
“You’ll get your shot sometime. Maybe they’ll substitute you in,” Baekhyun had patted his back.  
  
But fifteen minutes later, it was Baekhyun, not Jongdae, who had been called to start warming up in preparation of being substituted in.  
  
Carlo Ancelotti, Bayern’s new coach, must have noticed the look of utter offense and questioning on Jongdae’s face, because with an amused smile, he walked from the touchline of the pitch to thump Jongdae’s back encouragingly.  
  
“Be patient. Learn how it works here. And then you will have your chance,” he said before turning his attention back to the game that was going in their favor.  
  
Jongdae sighed before nodding, though still thought it was amusing how Ancelotti was telling him this when he was new here, too. Seconds later he watched jealously as Baekhyun was substituted in for Julian Green moments later.  
  
Honestly, though, it wasn’t all that bad sitting on the bench. Sure, he was used to playing full games and starting games back home, but he supposed it was only fair since he just transferred here and there were other players who had been with the club longer.  
  
The time he spent not focused on doing his best on the pitch could be times when he could hear _them_ and listen to the exuberant noises they’d make without worrying about playing at the same time.  
  
The fans.  
  
Bayern’s fans, as Jongdae quickly learned from sitting around and hearing the stadium erupt with cheers, singing, and chanting, were no joke. They were incredibly passionate, often raising giant red flags and banners into the air for their players even though it was just a pre-season game.  
  
Jongdae was ready to learn how much more spirited they could be when the Bundesliga season finally started.  
  
So for now, Jongdae listened to the fans, watched his teams play, and tried his best to be patient even though every single muscle in his body was aching to be there out on the field playing a sport he loved so much.  
  
After the game, Jongdae stood up from the bench, smoothing the wrinkles on his reserve jersey and sweatpants before good-naturedly congratulating his teammates with enthusiastic slaps on the back, proud smiles, and words of praise.  
  
“Jongdae!” Baekhyun said, spreading his arms out wide as soon as he caught a glimpse of him.  
  
“You’re sweaty,” Jongdae teased at the sight of Baekhyun’s disheveled state.  
  
He hugged him tightly anyways.  
  
After the game their team won, a freshly showered Baekhyun drove Jongdae to a nearby café that was in the middle of their two homes to celebrate.  
  
“That corner kick you took during today’s game was really something, Baekhyun,” Jongdae said as he sipped his drink.  
  
“Really?” Baekhyun beamed at Jongdae’s compliment, “Thanks, Jongdae…It’s really too bad no one headed or kicked it in, but we won anyways in the end, so it’s fine.”  
  
“Yeah,” Jongdae sighed, “How long did it take you to make starting lineup? I don’t know why, but I just haven’t been called up yet.”  
  
“Me?” Baekhyun said thoughtfully, “I started only a couple summer friendly games the summer I transferred, but Pep Guardiola, our coach back then, didn’t really start me again that much during the Bundesliga season unless he wanted to give some of the other players a break before a more important game.”  
  
“Oh…But you’re a good player, Baekhyun. Why would he do that?” Jongdae asked.  
  
“You have so much faith in me, Jongdae,” Baekhyun smiled, cheering up instantly at Jongdae’s words, “I wish Pep had that faith in me too, but I guess…sometimes a coach’s vision of how he wants to run a team doesn’t include some players, and I guess that player must’ve been me.”  
  
“Hopefully we’ll both get more playing time this season then,” Jongdae said, “I know talent when I see it…since I see it in the mirror every day after all, so you’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.”  
  
“How can you be so sure?” Baekhyun asked, resting a cheek on his propped up hand while gazing admiringly at Jongdae. Jongdae’s unwavering confidence was infectious, his energy radiant, and Baekhyun had always liked that about him even from their time together in the national South Korean football team. Now he was just so lucky that Jongdae had transferred here, too.  
  
“Because I’m Kim Jongdae,” Jongdae shrugged.  
  
Baekhyun had simply laughed at Jongdae’s comment before asking himself something Jongdae couldn’t process or focus on…because suddenly a clear, low voice echoed from across the café, and Jongdae couldn’t help but tear his attention away from Baekhyun to look for its owner.  
  
“Jongdae?” Baekhyun said, trying to gain his attention back.  
  
But Jongdae was still distracted, focusing on the voice and locking in on its owner, a man sitting up straight with his back to Jongdae.  
  
“Jongdae?” Baekhyun said, waving a hand in front of Jongdae’s face that Jongdae ignored as he leaned out of his seat and craned his neck to take a better look at the person.  
  
“How old were you when you first started practicing football?” the man said.  
  
Oh. He was interviewing someone…Was he a journalist then?  
  
“Shh—” Jongdae said, trying to memorize that voice because it was so damn _beautiful_.  
  
“Jongdae,” Baekhyun said, reaching over to grab Jongdae’s hand and snap him out of his daze, “If you didn’t really want to spend our free day off with me then you should’ve just said so.”  
  
“What?” Jongdae said, turning his attention back away from that mysteriously familiar stranger and to Baekhyun again, “Sorry I wasn’t paying attention…I’d love to spend the day with you, though.”  
  
Baekhyun shook his head but nevertheless detailed the things he wanted to do with Jongdae.  
  
This summer was the time where they would have the most freedom, free from the stress of domestic and international tournaments, so it was only natural to take advantage of the time and relax together.  
  
So the summer for Jongdae was spent adjusting to his new home in Munich, eagerly anticipating the official season ahead with his new club, and relaxing during his free time with Baekhyun.  
  
But with the end of the summer came the departures of countless names from the club…Matthias Sammer, midfielder Pierre-Emile Højbjerg, center back Medhi Benatia…but the arrival of new signings like young Renato Sanches from Benfica, Mats Hummels from a controversial and dramatic move from Dortmund, and other staff members.  
  
And for Jongdae came the arrival of new hopes, new dreams, new ambitions.  
  
He was going to make the starting lineup immediately in the fall.  
  
He felt it.  
  
He _knew_ it.  
  
Because he was Kim Jongdae.  
  


 

ϟ

  
  
When the fall finally came, Bayern was ready to start the Bundesliga with their first home game against Werder Bremen.  
  
The Bundesliga was Germany’s football league, and the top teams of the nation would play season-long matches against each other. A win would give a team three points, a draw one, and a loss none. The team with the highest points and goal difference by the end of the season would be proclaimed the champion of the year.  
  
Bayern had currently won four times in a row, but obviously they could not take any game lightly, especially the first game of the season, and nothing would satisfy them except a full three points won from their first match against Werder Bremen. While they had traditionally always beaten Bremen and Bayern’s home record was outstanding, no matter how optimistic and excited everyone was about the game, it was always wise to prepare.  
  
Even though Jongdae had impressed during the summer and friendly games, it came to everyone’s surprise but his own when he was placed in the starting lineup for the first game.  
  
He expected this after all.  
  
So when he finally showed up to the beautiful Allianz Arena, Bayern’s home stadium, with his undercut meticulously styled upwards for such a big day, the outside stadium glowing a bright red to celebrate the return of the football season and to cheer on the home team, reporters instantly flocked towards him and his teammates as they tried to push their way inside the stadium. A couple reporters followed him as far as they could, shouting questions at him.  
  
_Can you explain how you got picked for the starting lineup even though this is your first season with Bayern?  
  
How will you compete against high profile transfers and teammates to stay in the starting lineup?  
  
Are you hopeful you’ll score today?_  
  
Jongdae simply smiled before telling them he wasn’t here to compete against his teammates. He was here to compete with them and ensure a brilliant start to the Bundesliga season with phenomenal goals.   
  
Stepping into the dressing room was a dream.  
  
Bright red, open lockers lined the walls of the dressing room while the players’ portraits were displayed above them, and their jerseys hung from their cubby hooks with the backs displayed to show the numbers and names.  
  
And when he saw his own jersey hanging with his name on the back…surely this was too good to be real.  
  
Breathless, Jongdae walked towards his jersey and reached out to take it off the hooks and hold it in his grasp.  
  
“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” Thomas winked at Jongdae beside him while he got dressed, his number twenty-five jersey hanging next to Jongdae’s thirty-three.  
  
Jongdae only managed to nod before taking off his shirt and pulling on the pre-game kit.  
  
Pre-game warm-ups and practicing passed by in a daze, as Jongdae could barely focus on his own stretching and routines while the crowd of thousands and thousands of people watched excitedly as they sang along to the songs that blared in the stadium like “Stern des Südens,” Bayern’s most iconic anthem. While Jongdae strayed away from songs with lyrics, he somehow felt moved and felt a certain restless sense of calm as he listened to the words and phrases he did understand.  
  
Despite all the experience Jongdae had playing at a professional club level…this…this atmosphere here in the Allianz Arena was on a whole other level, and Jongdae felt so lucky to be a part of a team with such spirited fans.  
  
Finally when his team was ushered back into the dressing room to finally change into their red home kits for the game, Jongdae could feel his heart bursting with pride as soon as he slipped into his jersey.  
  
This was real.  
  
Jongdae was a Bayern player about to start his very first Bundesliga game, and this was _real_.  
  
“It looks good on you,” Baekhyun smiled beside him before he slid on his own jersey.  
  
“Thanks,” Jongdae said, dreamily continuing to pull the bottom of his jersey out so he could admire the whole kit on him, as there were no mirrors in the dressing room.  
  
Ancelotti soon came down to the dressing room to give final remarks before the game started.  
  
“Listen up,” he said, everyone immediately quieting down as soon as they noticed his commanding presence.  
  
“Today marks the start of the Bundesliga. I know this club has historically finished well and won four times in a row recently. But I don’t care,” he said, crossing his arms.  
  
“This may be my first season here, but the Bayern I coach will not take anything for granted. We all will not and cannot take any games lightly, and it will be our downfall if we underestimate any opponents and expect to cruise to the end of the season expecting a win,” he continued, eyeing every single player that nervously sat on the wooden benches.  
  
“I have chosen you all for a reason, so don’t let me, this club, or your fans down. You are making history right now, right here…so the question is this,” he spoke, his voice and words commanding power and demanding everyone’s attention easily as the volume of his voice subtly became louder and louder until he passionately all but shouted his final remarks, “Are you going to go down as the team with the best Bundesliga start in history? Or are you going to go down in the papers as the team that lost horrifically at home? You decide. We’ve been over all the strategies, we’ve practiced together, so right now, just go. Do what you do best. Breathe. Play. Win.”  
  
_Win_.  
  
With that, the team roared and cheered, drumming on the wood of the benches to make a deafening show of their own spirit, and Jongdae was ready…he was so ready to get out there and start playing and start winning.  
  
But when his team lined up next to Werder Bremen’s team in the tunnel that lead to the pitch, Jongdae suddenly felt a little nervous. He didn’t want to ask himself what if he failed, what if he missed so many shots, what if he couldn’t score because he was confident enough in himself that he could do well.  
  
So he didn’t.  
  
Instead, he jumped up and down restlessly and focused on the tactics and strategy that they had discussed for playing this team while the sounds of the crowd’s cheers thundered outside.  
  
Then he realized that he was probably disturbing the kid beside him who was holding his hand and looking at him curiously.  
  
“Are you new? I don’t know you,” the kid asked curiously.  
  
“That’s okay. You will soon,” Jongdae winked at the kid, “I’ll score a goal today for you, alright?”  
  
“Really? You will?” the child’s face burst into a grin as she looked at Jongdae with such awe.  
  
“Of course,” Jongdae said, patting the kid’s shoulder affectionately, “Which section are you sitting in?”  
  
“I don’t remember…But it’s around the journalists’ area,” she excitedly said.  
  
Jongdae nodded and was about to say something more before an official announced it was time to go. Time to head out into the field and start.  
  
He didn’t know who gripped the other’s hand tighter.  
  
The girl beside him because she was nervous in front of all these people, or Jongdae because he was nervous to show off what he could do in front of all of Bayern’s fans.  
  
Nevertheless, they held each other’s hands tightly to comfort each other in this moment…this moment where Jongdae walked out to the screams of the crowd, the bright lights, and the blare of the announcer, this moment where Jongdae would begin his first game of his career as a Bayern player, this moment where Jongdae would face Bayern’s fans officially for the first time.  
  
He felt so emotional as he saw Bayern fans lift up their carefully organized choreo for Bayern with giant banners that read _Welcome Back Boys_ and with a grand display of Bayern’s crest that was made up of little signs that the fans around the stadium held up.  
  
As they sent off the children after the two teams lined up beside them, the little girl waved one last time before running back into the tunnel.  
  
Honestly, it was so surreal…almost like a dream after both teams finished shaking hands and after Jongdae moved into position as Philipp went to take the coin toss to see which way they were playing first.  
  
And as the referee’s whistle blew, Jongdae leapt into action.  
  
Werder Bremen started with the ball, as a player immediately passed to his left before attempting to press onwards and move past Robert Lewandowski in order to skirt past the midfield.  
  
But here Jongdae was, winning the ball back with a well-placed tackle as deafening cheers erupted from the stands while he sprinted forwards before dodging past three Bremen players.  
  
“Pass!” someone shouted to his left.  
  
Jongdae had built up such a good momentum, and there was no way he could stop to pass now, so he kept forging onwards and slipped past another midfielder.  
  
“Jongdae, pass! _Here_ ,” someone shouted again.  
  
But the goal was in his sight…  
  
The goalie was nervously jumping around his box after the remaining defenders failed to win the possession back with their failed slide tackles.  
  
“Jongdae, I’m open! Pass!” someone shouted again.  
  
Jongdae saw the goal in his sight, so he didn’t listen.  
  
He didn’t think at all, let instinct and years of practice and trust in himself take over, and kicked the ball towards the goal.  
  


 

_WHAT A SHOT ON GOAL FOR BAYERN MUNICH IN THE OPENING STAGES OF THE GAME!! BAYERN’S LATEST SUMMER SIGNING, KIM JONGDAE, IS LOOKING PROMISING AND THREATENING AS HE EASILY DISMANTLED WERDER BREMEN’S DEFENSE IN THE VERY FIRST MINUTES!!!_

  
  
“Nice, nice! Make it in next time okay?” Thomas grinned, flashing Jongdae a thumbs up before he jogged back to position.  
  
Play resumed, and the rhythm of the game built up again from Bayern’s defense, as Philipp Lahm easily weaved past an oncoming Werder Bremen player before passing to Jérôme Boateng who held possession of the ball for a few moments and passed it onwards to Xabi Alonso.  
  
Alonso attempted to run forwards and looked to pass to Thomas, but a Bremen player impatiently pulled his jersey backwards before ultimately causing him to trip and fall.  
  
 

_A FOUL ON ALONSO BY SELASSIE!!! HE SHOULD’VE KNOWN BETTER, AND NOW HIS TEAM IS IN SERIOUS DANGER AS THE REFEREE AWARDS BAYERN A FREE KICK WITH ALONSO READY TO TAKE IT._

  
  
What Alonso lacked in speed, he made up for in technique, as he calmly observed the goal and the position of people lined up in front of it before calculating what angle he would need to kick the ball to curve it past any obstacles and through the goal. Jongdae restlessly stood, sticking his forearm out to fend off an eager Werder Bremen player who was trying to grab him and slow him down.  
  
Finally, the referee’s whistle blew, prompting Alonso into action as he kicked the ball, and Jongdae jumped just like everyone else to head the ball into the net in case it deflected. When it sailed across everyone’s heads, Jongdae fell to the grass, looking up as the ball flew towards the net.

 

 

_CLOSE!! ANOTHER SHOT ON TARGET FOR BAYERN MUNICH BY XABI ALONSO!!! BAYERN ARE LOOKING VERY THREATENING TONIGHT, AND IT’LL ONLY BE A MATTER OF TIME UNTIL THEY NET IN THEIR FIRST GOAL OF THE SEASON!!!_

  
  
Ah…too bad.  
  
He ran over with his other teammates to clap Alonso on the back for a good attempt before jogging back into play.  
  
It was sometimes hard to sprint and play hard for a full half of a game, but here, Jongdae was so energized and focused on the game that he didn’t feel the fatigue yet. Even as he panted hard, he still pressed himself onwards, running in formation as Bayern pressed Bremen back.  
  
Everyone set the pace easily, and the rhythm of the game and the teamwork were incredible. It was so easy for Jongdae to receive balls passed to him and for his team to receive his own passes, as they all worked so well together. And no offense to the other team of course, but the way Bayern pressured the other team’s defense so that Bremen’s offensive players suddenly fell back to defend as well just showed how Bayern was just on another class, another level.  
  
 

_HOW ARE SO MANY BAYERN PLAYERS ALLOWED UP THIS FAR NEAR BREMEN’S GOALLINE? MANUEL NEUER IS LOOKING BORED FROM THE WAY HE’S MOVED UP ALL THE WAY FROM BAYERN’S GOAL TO THE CENTER. BAYERN HAVE GOT THINGS HANDLED FROM HERE, AND IT’S A WONDER THEY HAVEN’T SCORED YET GIVEN ALL THESE CHANCES AND POSSESSION._

  
  
But after another missed chance, Werder Bremen, who had been dormant for so much of the game, surged to life, striking from the counterattack as Bremen’s Sambou Yatabaré seized the ball and sprinted towards Bayern’s goal.  
  
Alaba and Boateng raced after him, but it was too late.  
  
Yatabaré had such a major head start, so he rushed past the center line of the pitch and easily reached Bayern’s penalty box before finally checking his position and shooting the ball at the net.  
  
 

_WHAT A COUNTERATTACK FROM WERDER BREMEN! IF MANUEL NEUER HADN’T SAVED THAT SHOT, BAYERN WOULD HAVE CONCEDED THEIR VERY FIRST GOAL OF THE SEASON!! BUT BAYERN ARE LOOKING TO ATTACK AGAIN AS NEUER EASILY SENDS THE BALL SAILING BACK TO BREMEN’S GOAL AS LAHM PICKS UP THE BALL AND IMMEDIATELY BEGINS WORKING HIS WAY TOWARDS THE GOAL._

  
  
Philipp Lahm raced across the pitch, glancing at his team around him as he did his best to evade Bremen’s defense.  
  
He was doing so well…sprinting around players until he was reaching the top left corner of the pitch, and before he could be considered out of bounds, he swiveled and kicked the ball, sending the cross across the field.  
  
Robert Lewandowski attempted to head the ball in but missed, so Jongdae caught the ball with a bump on his chest and immediately raced past a defender who realized what he was trying to do, and without a further moment’s hesitation, kicked the ball towards the net.  
  
 

_GOOOOOOAAAAAAL!!!!!!! GOAL FOR BAYERN MUNICH!!!!! OH WHAT A BEAUTIFUL SHOT BY KIM JONGDAE!!!!! THE BAYERN MIDFIELDER EASILY CAUGHT LAHM’S CROSS THAT DEFLECTED OFF LEWANDOWSKI AND FENDED OFF A BREMEN DEFENDER BEFORE FINALLY SENDING THE BALL INTO THE BACK OF THE NET!!!!!_

  
  
Jongdae never stopped running.  
  
As soon as he saw the ball rush towards the back of the net, he kept running, running…running…veering off to the side as a wild, wild grin split across his face. And so he ran…ran alongside the stadium, shaking his fist in the air and pounding that crest he proudly wore on his chest with his hand.  
  
When he reached the stadium side where the kid that he lined up with said she would be, he leapt into the air with a triumphant jump, grinning while the crowd roared in response.  
  
The stadium announcer interrupted the goal celebrations and jubilant chanting by announcing the goal in his trademark style with his booming, charismatic voice.  
  
“IN THE FORTY-THIRD MINUTE…GOOOOOOOOALLLL FOR FC BAYERN MUNICH BY THE PLAYER WITH THE NUMBER THIRTY-THREE!!!”  
  
Jongdae finally fell to his knees before his teammates rushed towards him. Someone leaped on top of him while others bent down to proudly thump his back.  
  
“KIM!” the announcer yelled, waiting for the stadium’s Bayern fans to answer.  
  
_Jongdae!_ answered the crowd fully.  
  
“KIM!!!” the announcer yelled again.  
  
_Jongdae!_ answered the crowed fiercely.  
  
“KIIIIIIIIM!!!!!”  
  
_JONGDAE!!!!!!_ answered the crowd finally.  
  
There his name was…said by the mouths of so many, recognized by so many of these fans and whoever else was watching the game. The crowd screamed his name so easily, and Jongdae loved it.  
  
And he wanted more.  
  
This was what he was waiting for.  
  
This was what he wanted.  
  
This was the beginning of Jongdae’s beautiful career with Bayern Munich, and he was ready to score more for them, for these fans, for this club again and again and again and seal his status as one of the greatest football players ever.  
  
The second half finally ended peacefully with just an extra minute of stoppage time.  
  
“I don’t know why we couldn’t turn those early chances into goals,” Ancelotti said during half time break to everyone, “But keep doing what you’re doing, and don’t let them sneak any counterattack surprises on you.”  
  
“Especially you, Jongdae,” he said, turning his attention towards him as his teammates cheered for him, “Keep doing what you’re doing.”  
  
But Jongdae didn’t score again in the second half.  
  
And that was okay.  
  
He had seized his moment of glory for the game, and that was already incredible. It was good for a first match.  
  
When the final whistle blew, Jongdae fell to the pitch and raised his chin up as he looked at the wispy clouds that floated by above the arena to witness what a spectacular full first game of the season Jongdae had played. Today they looked closer than they had ever looked before.  
  
Bayern won their opening home game with three goals from Lewandowski, one from Philipp Lahm, and one other goal from Alonso.  
  
Jongdae couldn’t remember not grinning after he shook the hands of Werder Bremen’s team with his jersey off and hanging over his shoulder and after when he was congratulated again and again for a fantastic first game.  
  
There were few things better than the moments where all the hard work and persistency lead to times like these.  
  
A journalist stopped him before he was about to head back into the tunnel for a long shower, and smiling, he agreed to their request for an interview.  
  
“Jongdae…Wow…what a first match from you,” the journalist admiringly said, “Those who were watching can agree that it was a beautiful first official appearance. But personally, how was your first game with Bayern?”  
  
“It was like a dream, honestly,” Jongdae said, trying to focus on the journalist in front of him instead of the big camera angled at his side profile, “I’m here at the best club in the world and playing a sport I love, so it hasn’t felt real yet.”  
  
“You scored a stunning goal, but your first rush towards the goal at the beginning of the game had everyone on their feet and screaming. It didn’t go in, unfortunately, but would you have done anything different looking back?” the journalist continued to ask.  
  
“We had a lot of chances that should’ve went through in the first half like that, but you know,” Jongdae shrugged, “That happens…And you can’t regret or change what’s happened. But I felt good about my performance and my team’s performances, and I’m so excited for the rest of the season.”  
  
“Can we expect more stunning goals and incredible energy from you this season before your loan is over?” the reporter said.  
  
“Of course,” Jongdae grinned, “Because I’m Kim Jongdae.”  
  
The journalist thanked Jongdae before he nodded and walked off with a bright, beaming smile still on his face.  
  
Jongdae’s smile only faltered after he recognized a familiar voice, a familiar pair of glasses, a familiar journalist with his back turned to Jongdae as he interviewed Philipp Lahm for the post-match interview a couple meters from him.  
  
But before he could take a further step to investigate curiously, Baekhyun distracted him as he excitedly leapt onto Jongdae’s back, yelling out his own congratulations.  
  


 

ϟ

  
  
Even though Jongdae was eager to play more games with Bayern, international break was upon them as Germany was due to play Finland and Norway, and South Korea was due to play China.  
  
So reluctantly, Jongdae passed Ollie to the old lady next door to look after him for a little while until he was back before meeting Baekhyun at the airport so they could catch their flight together.  
  
“Flying and this jet lag,” Baekhyun said as he stretched after they landed at Incheon International Airport, “has got to be the worst part of this job…You can’t really get used to it, especially if it’s a bigger time difference you’re traveling to.”  
  
Jongdae merely hummed in response, as he felt relieved actually.  
  
It felt good to be home, back to the bustling streets of Seoul after they were picked up. Munich was a lovely city, but Jongdae missed this…missed the glaring advertisements everywhere, the busy streets, and the smell of delicious street food wafting through the air.  
  
And he missed his family the most, too.  
  
He still had a few days before the game in order to get used to the time difference and to train with the rest of the South Korean football team, so during his time off, he visited his parents and his brother.  
  
“How is it? Are they all like you?” his brother Jongdeok said after excitedly tackling Jongdae into a crushing hug.  
  
“Like what?” Jongdae said, hugging him back equally hard.  
  
“Amazing. Astounding. And arrogant,” his brother smiled before inviting Jongdae to sit in his living room couch.  
  
“Yeah,” Jongdae laughed, “They’re the best.”  
  
“You’re the best,” Jongdeok nodded, “Are you going to take South Korea to the World Cup?”  
  
“Yeah. Our first game is against China for the qualifications here. You’re coming, right?” Jongdae asked.  
  
“Of course. Seeing you blow a kiss into the camera gives me goose bumps at home, so I’ll have to go see you embarrass yourself in person,” Jongdeok said.  
  
“Tomorrow when I blow a kiss to the camera, know it’s for you,” Jongdae teased as he mockingly blew a kiss to Jongdeok.  
  
On the day of the game, Jongdae kept his word, blowing a cheeky kiss to the cameras that greeted him as he entered Seoul’s World Cup Stadium. Journalists shouted out questions at him, but none of their questions intrigued him, so he silently waved and marched onwards to the dressing room where a new face greeted him.  
  
“Jongdae? It’s my first game! It’s nice to meet you! I’m Jongin,” the new player said as he brushed soft, brown hair out of his eyes before bowing eagerly.  
  
Oh?  
  
A new rookie?  
  
Cute.  
  
Jongdae simply bowed back in response before wishing him luck.  
  
Instead of the bright red locker rooms Jongdae had grown accustomed to, his jersey now hung from white ones.  
  
But the feeling of putting on his jersey, even though it wasn’t the Bayern jersey he had quickly familiarized himself with, was always the same. He loved this sport so much, and to be able to play at such a high level with other talented players was such an honor.  
  
When time passed until the rest of the team had to line up in the tunnel, Jongdae spotted a familiar Chinese player stretching and stepped out of line to greet him.  
  
“Luhan, it’s good to see you again,” Jongdae grinned, offering a hand out to Luhan.  
  
“Jongdae!” Luhan turned, easily grinning as he saw Jongdae, slapping his hand before pulling him into a hug, “Are you ready to lose today?”  
  
“Are you ready to concede today? I’m feeling pretty eager to score, so watch out,” Jongdae smiled.  
  
“Of course,” Luhan laughed before an official signaled it was time to head through the tunnels and out onto the pitch.  
  
When the whistle signaling the start of the game blew, Jongdae’s team leapt into action.  
  
 

_AND WE’RE OFF WITH SOUTH KOREA STARTING THE MATCH AS PARK JOO HO PASSES TO KOO JA CHEOL!! THE GAMES IN THIS GROUP A WILL DETERMINE THE QUALIFIERS FOR BOTH THE AFC ASIAN CUP AND THE FIFA WORLD CUP, SO GAINING AS MANY POINTS EARLY IN THE TOURNAMENT AS POSSIBLE WOULD BENEFIT BOTH SOUTH KOREA AND CHINA._

  
  
China’s team played aggressively, eagerly pressing onwards and chasing after the ball and attempting tackles even though only a few moments had passed since the beginning of the game. Jongdae’s teammates held on for as long as they could, but ultimately lost possession to China before a Chinese player passed the ball to Luhan.  
  
Luhan was a deadly player, a brilliant striker, and always struck quickly and would net in goals before the other teams he played could even realize what happened  
  
 

_LUHAN LOOKING DANGEROUS AS HE MAKES A FAST RUN FROM THE LEFT SIDE AND SNEAKS PAST THE SOUTH KOREAN DEFENSE!!! BUT OUT COMES THE GOALKEEPER FOR A GOOD SAVE._

  
  
But the first half ended with no goals from either side and their coach yelling at them wondering why they didn’t capitalize on the chances they had and why they let the Chinese defense hold them.

 

_AND WE’RE BACK WITH THE SECOND HALF UNDER WAY. CAN EITHER SOUTH KOREA OR CHINA SCORE IN THE TIME LEFT, OR WILL IT BE A GOALLESS DRAW?_

  
  
After the second half, Jongin was substituted in for his first official time playing with the rest of the national team in a major tournament. Jongdae didn’t want to admit it, but Jongin’s substitution had a large effect on the team’s playing.  
  
Jongin seemed fearless, jumping into the air to catch corners even though he narrowly missed colliding with a Chinese player multiple times, sprinting all the way back to the Chinese goalkeeper when a Chinese defender passed the ball back to the goal even though the chances of scoring a goal there were slim, and finally calling out to Jongdae that he’d assist a goal even though South Korea had not won possession back yet.  
  
“Jongdae, go!” Jongin gestured for Jongdae to run forwards ahead of him, “I’ll pass you the ball, so just find the right spot to score!”  
  
“What?” Jongdae called, unsure of how Jongin was going to win the ball back before someone marked him.  
  
“I’ve got this,” he called out so confidently that Jongdae shrugged and trusted him.  
  
Sure enough, moments later, Jongin successfully won the ball back with a clean slide tackle before sprinting across the left side of the field and sending the ball flying across the field. And before any Chinese players could reach the ball, Jongdae rushed forward and instantly headed in the beautifully delivered cross into the net.  
  
 

_GOOOOOAAAAL!!!! MY GOODNESS CHINA REALLY LET JONGDAE SLIP RIGHT THROUGH THEIR DEFENSE!! HE JUST FLOATED AROUND THE PENALTY BOX WAITING TO CAUSE TROUBLE BEFORE KIM JONGIN SENT HIM A NICELY EXECUTED CROSS HE JUST HEADS IN!! SOUTH KOREA ARE UP 1-0 WITH PLENTY OF TIME LEFT FOR CHINA TO EQUALIZE._

  
  
After running joyously around the pitch as South Korea’s fans screamed in approval, Jongdae immediately went over to celebrate with Jongin, thanking him for the brilliant assist.  
  
“That was _amazing_ ,” he smiled.  
  
“Really?” Jongin’s eyes lit up as he looked at Jongdae with such awe.  
  
“Let’s score one more, okay?” Jongdae said before Jongin nodded and flashed him a thumbs up.  
  
But nearly ten minutes later, Luhan took advantage of a failed pass and sprinted towards the South Korean goal. Without hesitating, he focused and effortlessly shot the ball towards the net.  
  
 

_GOOOOOAAAAL!!!! LUHAN EASILY EQUALIZES THE SCORE AFTER TAKING ADVANTAGE OF A SLIPUP FROM THE SOUTH KOREAN DEFENSE. WILL HE BE ABLE TO SCORE A SECOND TONIGHT AND SEND CHINA HOME THE VICTORS?_

  
  
Luhan’s goal seemed as if it had happened out of nowhere, and South Korea’s team looked stunned as they watched Luhan celebrate with his team as the score was equalized to 1-1.  
  
Jongin, however, frowned especially before looking at the clock and squaring up his shoulders. Jongdae appreciated his determination and reminisced how much of himself he saw in Jongin. It would be nice to play with him on this team as long as they both could.  
  
Jongdae watched as Jongin determinedly raced around the pitch, sprinting towards every Chinese player in the hopes of intimidating them and catching any mistakes they would have made. It was a wonder that he hadn’t tired out yet, but Jongdae wasn’t complaining.  
  
Finally after another shot from Luhan that was thankfully saved, South Korea’s goalkeeper sent the ball flying across the center line with a powerful kick before screaming at his team to go, go, _go_.  
  
Without hesitating, Jongdae sprinted and chased after the ball, feeling a sense of relief after he felt the seized ball dance between his legs as he swiftly dribbled towards the goal.  
  
Now it was Jongin’s turn to trust what Jongdae was doing, and he eagerly sprinted ahead, though remembering to not incur the offside violation, around the penalty box as Jongdae ran past Chinese players. He meant to shoot towards the goal, but kicked the ball sideways so Jongin could reach out and hit it home for him instead.  


 

_GOOOOOAAAAL!!!! AND THERE’S SOUTH KOREA’S ANSWER AS KIM JONGIN SENDS THE BALL FLYING INTO THE BACK OF THE NET AFTER A BEAUTIFUL ASSIST FROM KIM JONGDAE!!! CAN CHINA EQUALIZE IN TIME TO SALVAGE A POINT FROM THIS MATCH?_

  
  
Jongdae watched Jongin’s face light up with joy as he punched the air after realizing he scored. If he were any less confident in himself, Jongdae would have felt threatened by Jongin’s young talent. But he wasn’t, so he simply headed over to affectionately pat Jongin’s back.  
  
Jongin’s goal had placed South Korea in front, and hopefully as time passed and China failed to score any more goals….perhaps South Korea would take the win.  
  
But with five minutes left on the clock, China was getting more desperate, as several of their players were immediately shown yellow cards for hard tackles that they shouldn’t have attempted. Luhan kept his cool, though, and immediately rushed forwards again and again, trying to find a way past South Korea’s defenders.  
  
“Hold the _defense_ ,” their coach bellowed, waving his arm back, signaling for all the players to fall back and focus on stopping China from equalizing.  
  
But Luhan took advantage of a slow pass made between two South Korean players and immediately intercepted the ball and raced towards the goal.  
  
_No_.  
  
Defenders raced after Luhan and tried their best to stop them before he reached the penalty box, but it was too easy for him….he always made it look too easy.  


 

_GOOOOOAAAAAL!!!!!!! OH WHAT A GOAL FROM LUHAN FOR CHINA WITH THIRTY SECONDS LEFT IN THE GAME!!!! THE STRIKER EASILY SPRINTS PAST SOUTH KOREA’S DEFENSE, BEATS THEIR GOALKEEPER, AND SENDS THE BALL THROUGH THE NET WITH A BEAUTIFUL SHOT. THAT WAS FAR TOO EASY FOR HIM, AND IT’S A SHAME SOUTH KOREA LET THAT ONE IN!!_

  
  
Ah.  
  
Next time they’d win for sure.  
  
Jongdae stopped running and attempted to catch his breath, looking at Luhan as he yelled and slid through the grass triumphantly before his teammates tackled him.  
  
What a talented fucker.  
  
“We were so close,” Baekhyun said as he trotted beside Jongdae as the final whistle blew soon after.  
  
“We’ll win next time,” Jongdae said, “We have to.”  
  
Jongdae then began shaking hands amiably with the Chinese players that passed him before Luhan strutted into view with his jersey already off and hanging from his shoulder.  
  
“Did you really think I’d let you win that easily?” Luhan said as he offered his jersey to Jongdae to trade before shaking his hand.  
  
“It would’ve been nice, but I _guess_ you just had to score,” Jongdae shook his head with a smile, swinging Luhan’s jersey onto his bare shoulder.  
  
“Just you wait…If Bayern ever plays Manchester United, I’ll be sure to win next time we play together,” Luhan good-naturedly warned.  
  
“That would mean Manchester United would have to be good enough to make the Champions League, so shouldn’t you worry about that first?” Jongdae teased before Luhan placed both hands on his hips and pretended to look angry before giving up and swearing that he really would beat him next time.  
  
Jongdae said his final good-byes as he was exiting the pitch before he saw Jongin walking side by side with a familiar figure who still had his back to Jongdae. Had he followed them to South Korea to report about their game?  
  
Who was this journalist?  
  
“Don’t be nervous, Jongin. I’ll just ask you a few simple questions about your first game, your goal, and football related matters. You’ll be fine,” the man said.  
  
“I’ve never done a major interview before,” Jongin said, his voice growing softer as the two of them walked further and further away from Jongdae.  
  
_What_.  
  
But what about Jongdae?  
  
His goal was spectacular, too, so where was his interview?  
  
“Do you have time for another interview after?” Jongdae said after he sauntered up to the interviewer.  
  
“What?” the journalist said as he turned to get a look at Jongdae. Jongdae didn’t even realize that the journalist’s gaze slowly wandered up and down his body, as he himself was too busy gazing and attempting to not look visibly overwhelmed.  
  
Because the journalist was so fucking _beautiful_ …Jongdae didn’t know what the fuck type of dress code journalists followed, but the dark button up shirt that the journalist rolled up to his forearms and left the top few buttons unclosed looked sinfully tight and well fitting. Jongdae allowed himself to appreciate the journalist’s soft looking lips and strong features before remembering he was here to get an _interview_.  
  
“Me…How about I make your day and grant you an interview,” Jongdae said, managing to appear composed and recovered in a record amount of time.  
  
“This is a personal interview I chose to conduct outside of other articles I write for work. And for these types of interviews, I only interview the best…like Jongin,” the journalist said while Jongin blushed beside him and shyly lowered his head.  
  
“So….me?” Jongdae confidently said.  
  
“I’m not familiar with the ball boys the South Korean football team hires, sorry…so I wouldn’t know if you were the best one they had,” the man said, his tone a little lilting and teasing.  
  
Jongdae’s jaw dropped, and he could only stare as the journalist lead Jongin away to start their interview.  
  
And on the plane ride home a few days later, Jongdae read Jongin’s interview sulking while Baekhyun looked on amusedly.  
  
The interview detailed Jongin’s wonderful first game for the South Korean national team and his incredible first goal Jongdae assisted.  
  
Well.  
  
At least his name made it into the article once.  
  
_Once_.  
  
The rest of the article was wonderfully written, and for a person who didn’t really like words, Jongdae found himself rereading paragraphs again and again because the prose was so beautiful even though it was just a simple sports article. When he finally scrolled to the end of the article, Jongdae’s jealousy reached its peak when he saw the name of the author printed at the bottom.  
  
_By Oh Sehun_.  
  
Oh Sehun…  
  
Sehun.  
  
A quick search online told Jongdae that Sehun was a very distinguished and renowned sports journalist who had countless awards to his name and praise heaped upon his work and writing.  
  
If Jongdae was among the best of football players, then it was only right that he should be interviewed by the best of journalists.  
  
So what did he have to do to get an article written about himself by Sehun?  
  
He knew he was better than Jongin, so why…why had Sehun not interviewed him yet?  
  
He pushed those thoughts aside because as soon as they landed, it was all business. Training, games, and practice welcomed him back, and Jongdae eagerly immersed himself into everything and played with every single bit of energy he had. So for a while, Jongdae forgot about that mysterious journalist, forgot that it was unfair how he hadn’t been interviewed yet, and simply focused on football.  
  
All until one day on the training pitch when a younger player, Joshua Kimmich, shyly asked Jongdae for help because he was supposed to be having an interview in an hour with some renowned South Korean sports journalist.  
  
“I want to be polite and impress him with a Korean greeting since he’s already doing so much by conducting the whole interview in German for me,” Kimmich said.  
  
“Wait. Wait a minute,” Jongdae said, stopping in his tracks and allowing the ball between his feet to roll off, “What’s his name?”  
  
“I don’t know to be honest,” Kimmich admitted, “So I didn’t want to cause any more offense.”  
  
“I see…I see…” Jongdae said thoughtfully before teaching him formal Korean greetings throughout practice.  
  
When it was time for Kimmich to be interviewed, Jongdae offered to walk him over just because he was curious to see if he’d finally meet that journalist once again.  
  
And sure enough, waiting for Kimmich outside a private room stood a familiar man with black glasses, sleeves rolled up to his forearms, and neatly styled hair.  
  
Damn.  
  
_Fuck_.  
  
He was _hot_.  
  
“So you’re interviewing Joshua,” Jongdae managed to call out, causing the man to look up from his phone.  
  
“Yes. That’s my job since he’s a rising star in Bayern, there’s a lot of hope and interest in him,” the journalist said, his eyes flicking up and down Jongdae’s body once before turning his attention back to his phone for a final moment.  
  
“You know him?” Joshua whispered.  
  
“I know his work,” Jongdae said.  
  
“Oh. You’re a fan?” the journalist asked after shutting off his phone.  
  
“Yes, but what about _me_ ,” Jongdae pouted, “I just transferred here and I’m doing so well and you’re not going to interview me?”  
  
The journalist remained silent as if he was considering Jongdae’s proposal for a moment.  
  
“Perhaps later if you can show me you’re going to do great things for Bayern,” he said.  
  
“Sehun. That’s your name, right?” Jongdae asked.  
  
“Yes. Why?” Sehun asked.  
  
“Well, Sehun…Don’t you know me? If you know me, then you’ll know I’m already doing great things for this club,” Jongdae confidently said.  
  
“Well keep doing them then. Now if you’ll excuse me and Mr. Kimmich,” Sehun said before Joshua apologetically left Jongdae’s side to start his interview. Jongdae was left all alone, his lips stretched into a dangerous smile as he watched them go.  
  
Ambitious Jongdae who wanted something was deadly. If he wanted a goal, he’d get that goal…even if it cost him sore muscles and overwhelming fatigue the day after the game. If he wanted a contract extension from Bayern after his loan expired, then he was going to get that contract extension even if he had to train and practice every day and night for it. So if he wanted an interview with renowned journalist Oh Sehun…then he was going to _get_ that interview.  
  
No matter what it took.  
  
So the next game, Jongdae proudly stood in the lineup scanning through the crowd of journalists and locking in on that familiar pair of glasses and rolled up sleeves.  
  
Sehun.  
  
Jongdae stared until Sehun looked up and nodded in greeting.  
  
He would show him today…  
  
And he did.  
  
That day Bayern won 5-1 against FC Ingolstadt 04. Neuer had been disgruntled that they conceded a goal and broke his clean sheet, but at least they secured a good goal difference with the game and Bayern stood first in the Bundesliga ahead of Dortmund and Wolfsburg thanks to three goals from Lewandowski and two from Jongdae.  
  
How was that for good now?  
  
But when Jongdae searched the area outside the pitch for Sehun to ask him for his well-deserved interview, he found him already interviewing Lewandowski. Jongdae silently seethed and impatiently waited for them to finish, and once they were done, Lewandowski patted Jongdae on the back before leaving to head back to the locker room.  
  
“So what do I have to do now to get an interview? You have to admit I was pretty good out there,” Jongdae said, causing Sehun to turn his attention towards him.  
  
“Really?” Sehun said.  
  
“Don’t you know who I am?” Jongdae teased, “What type of a sports journalist doesn’t know the team he’s reporting about?”  
  
“No,” Sehun seriously said, “Would you like to turn around for me so I can find out?”  
  
Jongdae raised his eyebrows surprisingly at Sehun’s words and studied Sehun’s countenance for any signs that he was joking.  
  
“Your number. And your last name,” Sehun said before the corners of his mouth lifted up into a slight smile, “What did you think I was suggesting?”  
  
Fine.  
  
Jongdae slightly tucked in his shirt in order to display his tight shorts, so as he turned around, Sehun was sure going to get a good view.  
  
“Ah. Yes, I remember now,” Sehun said, and Jongdae could feel Sehun’s eyes on him.  
  
“Isn’t my number big?” Jongdae said.  
  
“Well. It could be bigger…like Sanches’ number thirty-five,” Sehun said, and before Jongdae had any time to defend himself, he admitted, “But Kim….Now which one are you?”  
  
“That’s funny, Sehun. Very funny…So when you’re done pretending like you don’t _actually_ know me…How about the inter—” Jongdae began to suggest before a swarm of other journalists circled in and started asking him questions and cutting him off from Sehun.  
  
“Jongdae, what are your thoughts on today’s match?” one asked.  
  
“Are you confident about your next Champions League matches ahead?” another one asked.  
  
“That goal was _phenomenal_. Have you been practicing your free kicks?” another one asked.  
  
Jongdae was overwhelmed with all the cameras and recorders pointed at his face, but amidst all the questions, he still was able to only pick out that voice…Sehun’s voice.  
  
“There are plenty of journalists here. Why do you want an interview from me?”  
  


 

ϟ

  
  
Jongdae thought about that when he went home and curled up with his cat on the couch with Sehun’s articles open on his phone and Sehun’s televised interview blaring on the screen before him.  
  
And when Jongdae read through his articles and watched his interviews, he was certain. Jongdae wanted to be immortalized and memorialized by Sehun’s own words, his own writing, by his own hand.  
  
Sehun just had a very honest way with words.  
  
He didn’t hide things when he wrote about losing teams. If it was their fault, if they didn’t capitalize on chances, if they were simply just having a dismal day or were in a downward slump, then he said it all and didn’t bother to offer any condolences about their tragic playing.  
  
Likewise, when he wrote about winning players, winning teams…If they deserved the title of the best of the best, he would not hesitate to call them so.  
  
Jongdae had been the subject of a few nasty interviews himself, as journalists would ask him questions sweetly but then subtly change his words after writing the article or interview in order to subtly jab at him. So Sehun’s honesty combined with the glittering prose was so ideal to Jongdae.  
  
Jongdae was used to feeling exhilarated when he played on the pitch, so the way that Sehun could make him feel the same way with his words as he described matches was so astounding. As he continued to scroll through Sehun’s recent interview with Joshua Kimmich in which he hailed Kimmich as a potential successor to Lahm and a big hope for Bayern’s future, he felt so _jealous_.  
  
Jongdae was going to score an interview with Sehun no matter how many goals it took.  
  
At their next game against Hertha Berlin, Jongdae focused so that no one could call him anything less than perfect. He assisted goals that Thomas Müller and Renato Sanches scored, was directly involved in all the action of the game, so at the end of it, Jongdae knew that even if he didn’t score any goals, how would Sehun be able to refuse him?  
  
After all, he had just won Man of the Match for his stellar performance.  
  
“Do you want to hang after we’re done here? Dinner will be on me tonight,” Baekhyun suggested, swinging an arm around Jongdae’s shoulder as they began exiting the pitch after bowing and celebrating with Bayern’s fans.  
  
“Sorry, I’ve got something to do tonight,” Jongdae shook his head regretfully, “Some other time, okay?”  
  
Baekhyun simply nodded, but as Jongdae patted him on the shoulder before heading off towards the journalists’ area, he could not help but keep staring long even after Jongdae had left his side.  
  
Jongdae weaved through cameras and microphones and journalists, looking for the only one that he wanted, and when he saw that familiar figure, he smiled.  
  
“Sehun,” Jongdae called, but stopped in his tracks after he watched Sehun quickly thrust his microphone to the crew after his interview with Manuel Neuer concluded. Sehun’s fingers trembled, his jaw clenched, and Jongdae felt immediately concerned.  
  
“Sehun?” Jongdae quietly asked as he trailed slowly after Sehun after he strode to the nearest wall to lean on to catch his breath.  
  
Jongdae wondered if he should intrude at a time like this…when Sehun seemed not alright at all.  
  
But he then thought of all the times when he was five and slipping in the mud after tripping on the football before his coach gently picked him up, when he was fifteen and practicing alone in a field while wishing the clouds above would be able to pick him up when he fell, and now when someone tackled him hard on the pitch and he was so glad to see hands reached out to him to help him up.  
  
And so he reached out his hand.  
  
“Sehun,” Jongdae softly said as he placed his hand comfortingly on Sehun’s shoulder, “Are you okay?”  
  
Sehun didn’t say anything, but accepted Jongdae’s touch, not bothering to move away, and so Jongdae rubbed his shoulder comfortingly for a moment longer before Sehun turned and stood up straight to face him. All traces of the anguish that Sehun had displayed were gone…and Sehun masked his feelings and recomposed himself so perfectly and quickly that Jongdae didn’t know if he imagined them in the first place.  
  
“Hello, Jongdae,” Sehun said, his voice projecting clearly without any wavering, “What can I help you with?”  
  
“Are you okay?” Jongdae tried to ask again, “Are you…afraid of the camera or something?”  
  
“Jongdae,” Sehun chuckled, and Jongdae tried to tell himself that it was inappropriate at a time like this to like the way Sehun said his name in such a low, attractive tone, “If I was afraid of cameras, don’t you think I should’ve pursued a different type of work? And you didn’t answer me…What do you need?”  
  
Jongdae hesitated.  
  
Now was definitely not the right time to ask Sehun.  
  
“I didn’t want to ask—” Jongdae began to say.  
  
“Really? That’s surprising. When have you not wanted to ask?” Sehun said, bouncing back to his old self as he gave Jongdae a hard time with his deadpan banter.  
  
“I _mean_ ,” Jongdae threw back, “I was going to ask, but it seems like a bad time.”  
  
“Speak comfortably. Don’t worry,” Sehun said, “I’m fine. Really.”  
  
Jongdae looked at Sehun one more time, trying to find any traces of the discomfort or panic he had seen in him just mere moments before conceding and asking.  
  
“Well. I was just asking if you would do the honors of interviewing me,” Jongdae simply said, and unlike the times before where he had brashly asked Sehun, the loud volume and teasing tone were gone.  
  
But Jongdae’s confidence was still there…quietly shining through his poised posture, his straight shoulders, and raised chin.  
  
“You saw…the game today, right? What I did out there…that’s enough…that’s got to be more than enough. I was brilliant out there, and you know it. And you said you interview the best. So interview _me_ ,” Jongdae proudly said, drawing himself up as best as he could to try and seem taller even though that was impossible when Sehun towered over him.  
  
Sehun paused for a moment too long, and Jongdae braced himself for another no.  
  
But what he received instead was a smile.  
  
A beautiful smile that spread from Sehun’s lips and an answer that had Jongdae feeling like he just repeated today’s breathtaking victory all in this one moment.  
  
“Yes,” Sehun said, “Of _course_.”  
  


 

ϟ

  
  
It took three tries for Sehun to finally interview Jongdae.  
  
On the first try, they met at a nearby coffee shop conveniently ten minutes away from Jongdae’s place for traditional coffee and cake. Sehun insisted on paying since he was the one conducting the interview after all even though it may have seemed like Jongdae pleaded his way through it.  
  
“Is this a date then,” Jongdae teased, unable to help himself even though this was supposed to be a professional interview, “Because if so, then I’m paying next time.”  
  
It wasn’t his fault that Sehun just happened to be so fucking _attractive_.  
  
“It’s an interview,” Sehun said, but he, too, was unable to look away from Jongdae’s smile and stared intently for a moment longer before taking out his notebook and a pen.  
  
“That wasn’t a yes or a no,” Jongdae sweetly replied while Sehun hid his expression behind his coffee mug.  
  
It seemed, however, that it could not be either a date or an interview because by the time Sehun finally started to ask Jongdae relevant questions, the alarm bells of the café screeched, causing everyone to flee the premises as quickly as possible. As it turned out, a barista had accidentally left someone’s scone in the oven until it set on fire, but by the time the fire department came to sort everything out and make sure that the fire had been contained and nothing major suffered damage, it was time for Jongdae to go to training and time for Sehun to go to work.  
  
“Sorry, Jongdae…Let’s reschedule, okay?” Sehun apologetically said as he swung his satchel over his shoulder and pushed the frame of his black glasses further up his face.  
  
“Only if you’ll let me buy you a drink next time,” Jongdae winked amidst the ongoing blaring alarms and shrieking sirens behind them.  
  
“Only if you’ll let me pick the next meeting place,” Sehun winked back, and suddenly now alarms were sounding and screeching in the back of Jongdae’s head warning him that oh _fuck_ this was the beginning of _something_.  
  
But the second time Sehun attempted to interview Jongdae, Jongdae did not have any opportunities to buy him a drink because Sehun had at last minute changed meeting locations to the local park. Jongdae was suspicious and blamed this upon Sehun’s sly way of making him not pay for anything.  
  
“You know…You said I could buy you a drink this time,” Jongdae huffed as he waited for Sehun to pull out his notes, “How am I supposed to buy you a drink here? Unless you want me to scoop out some water for you in the pond because I would gladly do so if you wanted.”  
  
“You’re so interesting, Jongdae,” Sehun smiled, “Why didn’t I interview you sooner.”  
  
“I _know_ ,” Jongdae said, “I’ve been wondering that, too. You should’ve listened to me.”  
  
“Well. I’m listening now,” Sehun said, “Are you ready to start?”  
  
“I’ve _been_ ready, so come at me…Ask me anything,” Jongdae excitedly said.  
  
But the clouds had other plans, and today their gray selves let out a downpour of rain that spoiled their interview again.  
  
“Wow…maybe you’re just not meant to be interviewed by me,” Sehun said as he reached his hand out to feel the drizzling rain.  
  
“No, this just proves that we should have met _inside_ where I could have bought you a nice drink or something,” Jongdae shook his head before tilting his chin up to look at the dark clouds.  
  
“Here,” Sehun said, taking off his blazer to put over Jongdae’s shoulders, “A star football player can’t afford to get sick.”  
  
Jongdae was speechless and touched that not only had Sehun recognized and called him a fantastic player, but also because of other reasons he could not and did not want to put words to.  
  
“I guess this wasn’t an interview,” Sehun said.  
  
“Was it something else?” Jongdae said, hugging Sehun’s blazer closer to his shoulders before offering to stuff Sehun’s satchel down his shirt so it wouldn’t get even wetter.  
  
“It can be,” Sehun said before amusedly declining Jongdae’s proposal and placing his satchel over their heads to shield them from the rain.  
  
As the two of them walked back from their bench at the park, none of them in a rush to get out of the rain while simply appreciating each other’s presences, Jongdae enjoyed whatever this was.  
  
This short walk together.  
  
This short time together.  
  
This short something together.  
  
But on the third time Sehun tried to interview him, Jongdae never saw it coming.  
  
Just like how he didn’t see the result of today’s Champions League match against Manchester United coming.  
  
The Champions League was an international tournament in which the greatest European teams competed against each other alongside regular domestic tournaments. Bayern’s first Champions League game was against Manchester United, and to pass the group stages, Bayern would need to stay at the top two of their four-team group. Winning this game against Manchester United would guarantee them a good three points, a good start to the tournament, and place them in a good ranking.  
  
The day had started optimistically with his teammates rowdily saying how they wanted to take a serious win from this game. Jongdae himself was excited to see and play against Luhan again, but he wasn’t going to let him keep the promise he made last time.  
  
Before the match started, Jongdae and Luhan had cheerfully hugged in the tunnel before catching up. Luhan had reiterated his promise to make sure Manchester United would win against Bayern, and Jongdae hadn’t taken the threat so seriously because, hey, he wanted to win against all the clubs, too.  
  
But the game had started badly.  
  
After the whistle blew, perhaps his teammates and he were not expecting immediate action already within seconds of the game, perhaps today was just one of those days, or perhaps Luhan was too fast.  
  
Within the opening moments of the game, Luhan had seized the ball and sprinted as fast as he could between panicking defenders and whatever remained of Bayern’s scattered defense. Kimmich tried his best to keep up, but Luhan quickly outsprinted him.  
  
Manuel Neuer came out of his goalpost to try and stop Luhan, but that was a mistake, as Luhan not only managed to quickly dribble past him, but also took a shot on target.  
  
Jongdae stopped in his tracks as he begged… _let it miss…let it miss…let it—_  
  


 

_GOOOOOAAAAAL!!!!!!!!! GOAL FOR MANCHESTER UNITED BY THEIR UNSTOPPABLE STRIKER LUHAN IN THE FIRST MINUTE OF THE GAME!!! MY GOODNESS THIS IS THE FASTEST GOAL WE’VE SEEN THIS SEASON, AND BAYERN LOOKED ABSOLUTELY LETHARGIC AND SHOCKED AS LUHAN SEIZED THE CHANCE TO NET IN A SPECTACULAR GOAL!! WILL BAYERN BE ABLE TO EQUALIZE THIS SURPRISE CONCESSION?_

  
  
Luhan was too talented to miss with such a good opportunity and practically an open net like that.  
  
Jongdae gritted his teeth and ran back into play after watching Luhan finish his goal celebrations.  
  
It was disheartening to concede so early in the game, and really they should have done better, but now wasn’t the time to mourn over upsets like this…Now was the time to play better, do better, fight better, and score.  
  
Their fans agreed, and instead of standing in stunned silence, they began to sing and chant until the stadium erupted with thousands of voices united as one. Their fans were always spirited, but when Bayern needed it the most…they would not disappoint, as fan chant leaders directed the crowds, flag bearers swung and twirled the giant red flags faster and faster, and drummers drummed and drummed and drummed even though their arms were probably aching.  
  
But it was all for this.  
  
All for Bayern.  
  
It was one thing to watch football casually, but when a club attachment was forged…there was no turning back. There was just support, endless love and fierce camaraderie.  
  
And now, even though Jongdae had transferred to this beautiful club only this year, he could rightfully say he was so grateful he had a chance to play for the crest on the jersey he wore because he loved this club so much already. He would do everything he could to make Bayern proud.  
  


 

_AND IT’S OFF THE POST FOR KIM JONGDAE….IF HE HAD ONLY FOLLOWED THROUGH WITH THE CURVE A LITTLE BIT MORE PERHAPS IT WOULD’VE MADE IT IN…BAYERN NEED THAT GOAL TO EQUALIZE IF THEY WANT TO SALVAGE A POINT FROM THIS GAME._

  
  
That wasn’t a bad run. Jongdae stood for a second, panting before rushing back into the game.  
  
There was no time to take a break, and his teammates similarly never wasted any time in the game. If they missed a shot, they instantly raced back to try again, always try again and again. If they fell or suffered a tackle, they picked themselves back up right away instead of moping in the grass waiting for the referee to come…or at least most of them did, and Jongdae wanted to yell at Vidal that now wasn’t the time to dive before Thomas yanked him off the ground because they were fucking wasting _time_.  


 

_THOMAS MÜLLER’S SHOT JUST GOES RIGHT OFF THE DEFENDER…THAT’S BRILLIANT DEFENDING FROM MANCHESTER UNITED’S DALEY BLIND, AND BAYERN ARE LOOKING FRUSTRATED TONIGHT AS NONE OF THEIR SHOTS HAVE GONE THROUGH._

  
  
The first half ended with Manchester leading 1-0 and a number of missed chances from Bayern to equalize.  
  
In the dressing room, Jongdae and his teammates endured a frustrated Ancelotti asking them what had happened…how could they let Luhan through so quickly in the beginning of the game.  
  
“This is the first game of the Champions League’s group stages. Are you really going to tell me and all the supporters out there that you’re going to let Bayern sit at the bottom of the table with zero points? All because of…Manchester _United_? No….it’s not possible,” Ancelotti frustratedly said, fiercely looking at every dejected player.  
  
Beside him, Kimmich sat with his head down, still feeling ashamed that he had let Luhan pass through his defending so quickly.  
  
Jongdae patted him on the shoulder, but still sat up straight with his chin raised defiantly.  
  
No.  
  
That would not happen tonight.  
  
But in the second half, it was a race against time and a battle against themselves, as Bayern missed more shots and generally looked like very poor shadows of their selves.  
  
 

_IT WAS A GOOD TRY FROM LEWANDOWSKI, BUT THE CROSS HE RECEIVED WOULD HAVE HAD TO BE PERFECT, SO BAYERN JUST COME UP SHORT AGAIN…THAT SEEMS TO BE HAPPENING TOO MUCH THIS WHOLE GAME FOR THEM._

  
  
Jongdae jogged over to give Lewandowski an encouraging pat on the back and telling him he’d score next time for sure. It was good to keep the morale up, and Thomas Müller joined in and screamed uplifting sentiments to help the team fiercely launch themselves into play once again.  
  
 

_OFFSIDE ON BAYERN WITH FIVE MINUTES LEFT TO GO…ARTURO VIDAL’S PROTESTING THAT RIGHT NOW, BUT THE REFEREE WAS RIGHT TO MAKE THAT CALL. WITH TEN MINUTES LEFT, CAN BAYERN EVEN PULL THEMSELVES TOGETHER TO EQUALIZE?_

  
  
Manchester United stubbornly hung back, letting Bayern control the possession and the flow of the game. They had their goal, so now they were defending for their lives so Bayern would not have even a chance to equalize. Jongdae could feel his teammates’ frustration as the forty-five minutes of the second half passed quickly with no goals.  
  


 

_ONE MINUTE OF STOPPAGE TIME WILL BE ADDED, AND BAYERN HAVE NOT BEEN ABLE TO MAKE A SINGLE SHOT SINCE. IF THE GAME ENDS THE WAY IT’S GOING, MANCHESTER UNITED WILL SIT TOP OF THE TABLE WITH THREE POINTS FROM THIS MATCH. CAN BAYERN EVEN DO ANYTHING AT THIS POINT?_

  
  
Yes… _yes_.  
  
Even when everything suggested otherwise, there was always time to try again and again and again.  
  
Some might say that a minute would be too short of a time to try and do anything with it.  
  
But for Jongdae, a minute was more than he’d need.  
  
A minute was another chance to do something.  
  
So he tried to urge his teammates on, and even though in the excitement and desperation he unknowingly switched back to Korean to shout his orders and encouragement, his teammates understood anyways and tried their best.  
  
“Go, go, _go_ ,” Jongdae frantically screamed, gesturing onwards as he ran with Thomas Müller as they rushed towards the goal.  
  


 

_AND THAT’S IT. MANCHESTER UNITED TAKES THE THREE POINTS WITH A 1-0 VICTORY OVER BAYERN THANKS TO LUHAN AND HIS EARLY GOAL._

  
  
But sometimes, no matter how much Jongdae tried, it would just not be enough.  
  
As a football player, Jongdae should have been used to losing, as winning every single game and converting all the chances into goals were always impossible. He could not score all the time. His team could not win all the time. But that didn’t make losing any easier to Jongdae every time just like tonight when the final whistle would blow to signal officially that his team had lost.  
  
“Nice one, Luhan,” Jongdae said, trying to sound congratulatory and trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice as he went to hug Luhan.  
  
“Thanks, Jongdae. It’s a shame none of your shots went in…maybe we would’ve had to work harder for our win then,” Luhan said, pulling in Jongdae and tousling his hair affectionately.  
  
“I’ll see you around,” Jongdae nodded, “Next time you’re not going to win so easily.”  
  
“I’ll look forward to it then,” Luhan smiled.  
  
With that, Jongdae trudged immediately to the showers and turned on the hot water and just stood there, his gelled up bangs rapidly falling flat onto his forehead as the steam and water mercilessly pounded upon him.  
  
“We’ll get them next time…There’s one more match against them later, guys,” Thomas loudly said to try and cheer up the rest of the silent team.  
  
Jongdae barely registered his words and continued staring at the tiled wall as water rushed down and beat his body.  
  
Even at his old clubs, whenever his team suffered a loss no matter what, Jongdae always spent forever in the showers as if he was ready to drown out the day and flood out the mocking faces of the jubilant winners.  
  
On pitch, he kept his head high, shaking hands with the teams as a show of good sportsmanship. But off the pitch at least in times like this he took every loss personally and heavily. It was a bad habit to have especially since he played regular games…but when was losing ever fun?  
  
“I’m heading home first. Don’t beat yourself up too much or drown yourself in here, okay?” Baekhyun said before patting him on the shoulder and leaving.  
  
When he was all alone after everyone had left the showers, Jongdae let himself break down and collapse. He was still confident in himself and still could not bring his head downwards in shame, but it was still a little harder to stand straighter than normal, as he leaned against the wall to stabilize himself before he angrily pounded the wall with his fist.  
  
Jongdae hated losing… _hated_ the feeling of being unable to face his team and his fans after a loss…and he especially _hated_ the feeling that this should not have happened because he was the best.  
  
When Jongdae finally composed himself enough to leave the stadium dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie he threw over his head to shield himself, a flock of paparazzi he was in no mood to deal with immediately spotted him and began shouting to get his attention.  
  
_Look over here!  
  
How does it feel to have missed so many shots?  
  
Look over here!  
  
How does it feel to lose at home?  
  
Look over here!_  
  
Instead, Jongdae looked up…looked up at the slowly drifting clouds that covered most of the sky even though the defeat of the game wanted to force his head down.  
  
He really did not want to face these invasive cameras and flashing lights, so, just like he had done after his first press conference here that felt so long ago, he looked at the clouds a moment longer before sprinting down the street as fast as he could.  
  
Luckily, he lost them when he headed into the U-Bahn station. Baekhyun had insisted on taking him home earlier, but Jongdae could not bring himself to be with anyone right now.  
  
But when he reached home and walked down his street with his hood still over his head, he stopped as he saw people carrying cameras crowded around his front gate.  
  
_Fuck_.  
  
How was he supposed to get home now?  
  
Turning, Jongdae ran across the street to the block behind his house before anyone noticed him and counted the houses hoping that his neighbors wouldn’t mind if he snuck behind and climbed over their fence to get home. After counting what was probably the right amount of houses, Jongdae opened the side gate of a quaint two-story house and crept in the backyard. He could almost see the wall he had to climb over to reach the safety of his house until a voice startled him.  
  
“Stop before I call the police,” it commanded.  
  
Ideally, all Jongdae wanted to do was crawl into bed and mourn pathetically for the rest of the day while blasting Chopin’s “Nocturne Op. 48 No. 1 in c minor” until he fell asleep to the slow lull of the piano and the somber chords. But he straightened as he turned to face its familiar owner. How could he forget such a voice after all?  
  
“Sehun? What are you doing here?” Jongdae said, perking up finally as he removed his hood to get a better look at Sehun.  
  
“Jongdae? What are _you_ doing here? I live here…” he said, relaxing as he realized it was just Jongdae.  
  
“Listen…I had a pretty fucking awful day and there are people in the front of my house waiting to take some awful blurry shots of the guy who missed all the shots and didn’t help his team’s loss…so can I just quickly cut across your yard to get home? I live on the other side,” Jongdae sighed as he pointed ahead.  
  
Sehun studied Jongdae, observed his slightly hunched shoulders, and remembered when Jongdae had found him in a similar fashion and comforted him.  
  
So he shook his head.  
  
“Why don’t you come inside? Let’s do our interview now,” he said.  
  
“Really?” Jongdae’s gaze brightened instantly as he looked at Sehun excitedly, and if he was allowed, Sehun would honestly just want to interview Jongdae…only Jongdae from now on if he could look that happy always when he interviewed him.  
  
But that sudden cheerfulness dimmed for a moment as Sehun invited Jongdae inside his house. Jongdae sighed as he plopped himself and his muddy tracksuits all onto the couch, groaning as Sehun’s living room TV blared with the match report of Bayern’s loss.  
  
“Sorry,” Sehun muttered before turning off the TV.  
  
Jongdae sank further into the couch in response.  
  
“Alright. So why don’t you tell me about yourself?” Sehun asked, pulling out a spare notepad and a pen from his coffee table. Of all the interviews he had held, Jongdae was the only one to pitifully nestle himself onto his couch for now.  
  
He had also been the only one to visit his house, too.  
  
Jongdae tried to pull himself into a professional sitting position and sighed as he heard Sehun’s question. Well at least he could talk about the things he loved now.  
  
“You already know me, Sehun,” Jongdae said as he finally pushed himself up so he could face him properly, “You know I’m Kim Jongdae, you know I play for Bayern, and now you know I live right next to your house.”  
  
“And I know you’re one of the best football players,” Sehun said, and even though he said it so matter-of-factly, Jongdae felt himself grin despite his somber mood.  
  
“Yeah. One of the best,” Jongdae nodded, sitting up straighter in his seat.  
  
“I know all of that, yeah…But tell me about the things I don’t know. Why did you move to Bayern?” he asked, the corner of his mouth lifting at the sight of Jongdae’s own smile.  
  
“I moved here because they were interested in me and offered me the opportunity to be here and play with these amazing people…and it would have been such a bad decision to ignore a transfer offer from the greatest football team in the world, right?” Jongdae said, leaning closer to Sehun as he talked, “I know I’m the best, so if I want more people to see how hard I work, how good I am, then the only option is to move here.”  
  
“So you only moved here for yourself? Do you like the team?” Sehun asked.  
  
“That’s really funny,” Jongdae chuckled dryly, “Of course I love the team. I love playing with my teammates, and they make it easy to give the extra two hundred percent when we’re training or playing, you know? It’s so good to work with equally minded and talented players who give every game their all no matter what.”  
  
“You’re on a loan for a year here. What are your career goals while you’re signed?” Sehun continued to ask.  
  
“I’d love to help win a Bundesliga title, the DFB cup, and especially even Champions League if we’re focused and able to of course. I just want to achieve all that I possibly can…and ultimately I’d love to extend my contract after my loan is over and sign officially. That would be a dream…Bayern is my dream,” Jongdae nodded.  
  
He was certain now. Yes. This was what he wanted. He wanted to stay here as long as he could and play for Bayern as long as he was allowed.  
  
“I see you’ve fallen for the club easily. Do you like their philosophy and tradition as well?” Sehun asked.  
  
“One of the first things I learned after coming here was how much they embody their motto. You know it, right? Mia San Mia,” Jongdae said, pausing before Sehun nodded.  
  
“We are who we are,” Sehun translated.  
  
“See, there’s my good journalist…you’re always so knowledgeable,” Jongdae clapped his hands together.  
  
“Yes. But does it mean anything to you personally?” Sehun asked.  
  
“To me it means we can be anything and everything and be proud of who we are. We are amazing. We are arrogant. We are fighters. On the best days we’re winners, but as you can see on days like today, we’re losers and we admit we have much to improve on. We are so many wonderful and terrible things, but we are unashamed of everything we embody, and nothing can stop us from loving our club, loving this sport, and spending every single second on the pitch fighting to win for ourselves, for the crest we wear on our jerseys, and for those who support us. We’re just…We are who we are. And we’re Bayern,” Jongdae said.  
  
Jongdae watched as Sehun lowered his pen for a moment and stopped writing.  
  
“Did you get all of that? I can repeat it if you’d like. It doesn’t seem like the people outside of my house are going to leave anytime soon, so there’s plenty of time,” Jongdae said.  
  
“No, I just…That was a really good answer,” Sehun said, “It’s clear how much you love this club.”  
  
“Of course,” Jongdae smiled brightly, feeling much better than he had felt after the final whistle blew to signal that Bayern had officially lost against Manchester United…of all teams to lose against.   
  
As he waited for Sehun to finish writing his response, Jongdae admired the way Sehun lightly bit his lower lip as he concentrated hard on his work, the way the veins in Sehun’s arms strained a little bit against his skin as he wrote quickly, the way Sehun’s eyelashes fluttered lightly as he blinked behind his glasses.  
  
“You’re very confident in your team and your play, but there will be days when Bayern will lose again just like today. Can you pick yourself back up easily after a loss and move onto the next game? Or do you regretfully dwell on what could have been done, what should have been done during your loss?” Sehun asked.  
  
“Of course a loss is disappointing,” Jongdae said, feeling his lips drag into a slight pout, “and I’m still disappointed about today since I don’t like losing. But I’ll learn from our losses and move on without a doubt with a deep breath, shoulders back, and chin up.”  
  
“That’s very inspiring,” Sehun said thoughtfully, “But how can you continually pick yourself back up again after losses? Surely it must be hard sometimes.”  
  
“Just because,” Jongdae shrugged, “Because I’m Kim Jongdae.”  
  
Sehun furrowed his eyebrows at Jongdae’s comment before letting out a laugh.  
  
“Everyone always laughs when I say that,” Jongdae sighed, “But it’s true.”  
  
“No, no…I’m sorry if you misunderstood, but I’m not laughing because it’s funny,” Sehun waved his hands as he explained, “I only laugh because you’re so charismatic and so interesting.”  
  
“Well I also think you’re interesting,” Jongdae honestly said, “I’d love to interview you sometime myself, too.”  
  
Sehun looked taken aback. He had been used to interviewing people, but never being interviewed. But the look Jongdae gave him was not mocking or condescending like the looks some of the older journalists he worked with gave him when they invited him onto some project they were working on before laughing and telling him they were just _joking_. No, the look Jongdae gave him was rather one of genuine curiosity and something….something perhaps sweeter that Sehun didn’t want to guess at in case he was wrong.  
  
“Maybe sometime I’ll let you,” Sehun said before continuing the interview.  
  
The two of them talked more about football before the questions Sehun asked Jongdae slowly shifted to less and less football and more and more to not Jongdae the footballer, but Jongdae the every day average guy that just so happened to live right next to him.  
  
Not that Jongdae was average in any way.  
  
“Wait…this part isn’t going to be published, right? I don’t want the public to know so much about me,” Jongdae said. What he meant was that he didn’t want the public to know his more personal side, the side he only wanted to share with himself and those he trusted.  
  
“I’m a journalist. You just have to trust that I won’t twist your words or write a bad portrait of you. Not everything we talk about will make it into the published article,” Sehun said.  
  
“I’ve had a couple bad experiences with some journalists. Most people in my field have anyways,” Jongdae admitted. But he was familiar with Sehun’s work and admired his words, so he continued talking anyways.  
  
“My Sundays?” Jongdae repeated after Sehun asked him what he liked doing on free Sundays.  
  
“My Sundays…if I don’t have any schedules or games, I’ll just lay around with my baby,” Jongdae said.  
  
“You…have a baby? A kid?” Sehun said, a bit of shock flowing through his face before he controlled his expression.  
  
“Yeah,” Jongdae nodded, enjoying how he was making Sehun feel, “My cat. Ollie.”  
  
“Oh…Oh of course,” Sehun said, pleasantly intrigued to find that Jongdae was more than cocky talk and an arrogantly passionate footballer.  
  
“Why did you name your cat Ollie?” Sehun asked, “Is there any special meaning?”  
  
“I…named him after Oliver Kahn,” Jongdae said, suddenly shy all of the sudden.  
  
“Oliver Kahn?” Sehun said, “ _The_ Oliver Kahn? Oliver Kahn one of the best goalkeepers who ever played? Oliver Kahn the ex-Bayern player? _That_ Oliver Kahn?”  
  
“Yeah,” Jongdae sheepishly said, “My cat sometimes gets temperamental and emotional like him so I thought it was fitting. Sometimes when I kick his tiny rubber balls at him, he likes catching them or stopping them before they roll away too far.”  
  
“Jongdae…I think I could write a book about you, never mind just an interview,” Sehun wistfully said, “Maybe even a whole series.”  
  
Jongdae, confident Jongdae who was so sure of himself all the time, finally blushed at Sehun’s compliments and fell silent for a moment. He was so surprised at how much he was talking to Sehun and how _easy_ it was honestly. He could talk to everyone if he tried, but as the night passed on, he found himself telling more personal, intimate details about himself to a journalist. This journalist.  
  
“That’s interesting,” Sehun said, “Why don’t you listen to music with lyrics?”  
  
“I’m really serious about interviewing you sometime,” Jongdae said instead, “You know too much about me now, and I know too little about you.”  
  
Sehun fell silent before nodding.  
  
“Okay,” he said, “When we’re free you can if you want. Now…why don’t you like listening to music with lyrics like you said before?”  
  
“I…well. Lyrics usually make me a little…sad,” Jongdae admitted, “I don’t know why, but they just do. I prefer to make meaning from the music myself anyways…and just have the melody and the notes inspire me instead of someone else’s words that direct what I’m supposed to feel or how I’m supposed to interpret the song.”  
  
And it was true. Jongdae didn’t like words. He didn’t like them especially in songs when the artist was supposed to tell him explicitly how they felt or how devastating pining after a person felt like. Jongdae preferred to let actions speak for themselves just like now…how even after Sehun ran out of football related questions and after the interview had long since ended, Sehun didn’t bother telling Jongdae to go home and Jongdae didn’t even think of heading home just yet.


	2. Chapter 2

After Jongdae discovered he was Sehun’s neighbor, he most definitely did not leave him alone after that.  
  
Sometimes he just simply shouted a greeting over the wall before silence and a quieter but equally enthusiastic response followed. Other times he kicked his footballs over the wall accidentally on purpose so he could make a big deal of looking in Sehun’s backyard for them. Of course it was just an excuse to see Sehun.  
  
Next week, another nice excuse delivered itself when Jongdae loaded the website of the sports newspapers Sehun wrote for and saw a picture of himself kicking a ball on the front page while large headlines blared in the background.  


 

KIM JONGDAE: BAYERN'S NEWEST SIGNED LEGEND

  
  
_By: Oh Sehun_

  
Excited, Jongdae tried to forcibly control his habit of skimming through words and slowed down as he read everything Sehun wrote about him in his article. It was always hard to have someone else figure out the meaning in his words and write about him in their way, but this….Jongdae loved this interview and how Sehun had interpreted his words.  
  
It was heartfelt, honest, and…it was his best interview by far.  
  
Wishing to thank Sehun for such a lovely interview, Jongdae immediately pushed open the screen door and walked out to his backyard to see if Sehun was there. He jumped, catching a glimpse of a figure over the tall wall. He jumped again, and this time, caught a longer glance of Sehun sitting on his patio with notebooks sprawled across his lap as he wrote something.  
  
“Sehun!” Jongdae called as he jumped again, wishing the wall wasn’t so tall.  
  
Jongdae was about to jump again before hands placed themselves on top of the wall as Sehun effortlessly hoisted himself up and greeted Jongdae. How unfair…how unfair was it that he was so much taller than Jongdae.  
  
“Wow…maybe if you played football, you could’ve been a goalkeeper,” Jongdae said, appreciating Sehun’s height.  
  
“Did you really call me over just to tell me that,” Sehun said before his arms wobbled and gave out, causing him to fall back over the other side of the wall.  
  
Jongdae fell silent, and he didn’t really want to be looking at a wall when he could be looking at Sehun, so he simply looked towards the sky as he spoke.  
  
“I just wanted to say…Thank you for your interview. I really like your writing, Sehun. It has a lot of heart in it and your prose…is so beautiful. I don’t like a lot of words, but I like yours,” Jongdae honestly said, watching as the clouds above slowly drifted across the horizon as the sun glowed behind them.  
  
“Sehun? Are you there?” Jongdae called out over the wall when he received no response.  
  
But then hands were pressing flat against the top of the wall again until Sehun managed to push himself upwards again to face Jongdae, exerting so much energy Jongdae wasn’t sure if Sehun was going to last as long as he did last time.  
  
“Thank you, Jongdae. Really…Thank you. That means a lot,” Sehun smiled, and for now, Jongdae didn’t know why. He really didn’t know why he smiled so easily in return, why his gaze suddenly turned so affectionately fond, why his heart felt like he had just finished running a full football match even though he was just standing here staring at Sehun.  
  
But he didn’t give himself the chance to put the reason or the sensation into words, so he just smiled back.  
  
Jongdae was still smiling long after Sehun had tumbled down from the wall again, long after it was time for him to sleep, and long after the clouds in the sky parted to reveal the dazzling, radiant moon.  


 

ϟ

  
  
Jongdae bought a stepstool within the week.  
  
It wasn’t his fault that he was shorter than the wall that separated his house from Sehun’s, and he just wanted to talk to Sehun more. He still had Sehun’s number, yes, but what was the point in texting when he could just speak to him face to face?  
  
And on lazy, free afternoons like this when he didn’t have any football duties to attend to and Sehun didn’t have any matches to report or interviews to conduct, Jongdae knew Sehun would be on the other side of the wall right now sitting on his back porch.  
  
So in an effort to subtly not so subtly let Sehun know he was free to talk, he made his presence known as he turned on his music loudly and blasted a pensive, wandering piano piece on his speakers as he practiced a few tricks in his backyard.  
  
Soon out of the corners of his eyes, he saw someone peek over his wall.  
  
_Goal_.  
  
“Oh, Sehun…sorry, was the music too loud for you? I can turn it off if you want,” Jongdae said, kicking the ball one last time before catching it in his arms and striding towards Sehun.  
  
“No…I just wanted to ask what song was it?” Sehun shyly asked, “It’s really pretty…I don’t think I’ve heard anything like it before.”  
  
“I know, right?” Jongdae excitedly said, “It’s Debussy’s 'L’Isle Joyeuse’…Live recording from Carnegie Hall. It's the best recording I've ever heard.”  
  
“Thanks,” Sehun nodded, “Do you listen to classical music whenever you practice like that?”  
  
“Yeah. You know me, Sehun. You know I like interpreting things on my own. No words. Just meaning,” Jongdae said.  
  
“Okay…then interpret me. What am I doing now?” Sehun asked, leaning over the wall comfortably. It seemed as if he bought a stepstool, too.  
  
Jongdae stared at him and suddenly he was overwhelmed by words…too many words.  
  
What he _wanted_ to say was that Sehun was visiting him, that Sehun wanted to spend time with him, so here he was. But Jongdae didn’t want to be wrong if Sehun actually didn’t intend that, didn’t want to assume something Sehun didn’t mean, didn’t want to impress upon Sehun what he wanted to think. Perhaps even actions had too much meaning for him, too, in times like this.  
  
So instead of what he _hoped_ Sehun was doing, Jongdae answered lightheartedly.  
  
“You’re obviously here to congratulate me on Bayern’s recent victory against Augsburg,” Jongdae nodded thoughtfully while Sehun couldn’t help but let out an amused laugh.  
  
“Jongdae, your confidence in yourself is incredible,” Sehun said, propping up his elbow on the wall before resting his cheek in his hand as he gazed at Jongdae.  
  
“Okay, but didn’t you see the goal I scored against them? I think I impressed even myself,” Jongdae grinned, walking towards Sehun as he dragged his stepstool over.  
  
“Okay, but didn’t you see the goal Lewandowski scored, too? I think he impressed even himself,” Sehun teased.  
  
“Okay, but _my_ goal, Sehun…” Jongdae pouted as he finally stood on his stepstool to meet Sehun even though he was still, to his dismay, shorter than him, “Is it enough to get me another interview with you?”  
  
“Maybe,” Sehun said, but from the way his eyes glinted delightedly and the way his lips curled up, there was an unspoken _yes_. “But I can’t right now…I’ve got to travel tomorrow to cover the Dortmund and Schalke game.”  
  
“So you’re not going to Bayern’s next game?” Jongdae asked, “Five minutes of us playing would be better than them…no matter how legendary their rivalry is.”  
  
“Oh? But how do you know their game won’t be a five-goal thriller?” Sehun asked.  
  
“Because I play for Bayern, and I know we’re the best,” Jongdae honestly said, “If you wanted a five-goal thriller you can always look up match recaps of our previous games…So who would you rather watch? As a fan…not a journalist?”  
  
“…Bayern,” Sehun admitted.  
  
“See?” Jongdae smiled and leaned over to tousle Sehun’s neatly combed hair, “Come and watch with us, Sehun. Come and watch me.”  
  
Jongdae wasn’t serious, though. As much as he would have liked Sehun to come watch their game, he knew Sehun could not. Both of them were professionals in this game. One played football and the other reported it. Just like Jongdae could not simply switch over to play for Dortmund at anytime even though that’d literally be the last thing he’d do right after joining Manchester United or Chelsea, Sehun could not just report any game he wanted.  
  
So when Jongdae smiled at the cheering crowd the next day, even though he knew Sehun would not be present, he could not help but scan the crowd for those black glasses, rolled up sleeves, and sleek dark hair anyways.  
  
And when the camera panned over him as he stood in the starting lineup, Jongdae winked good-naturedly just in case Sehun would watch the replay of his game.  
  
Just in case…  
  
So perhaps they would have to wait for these moments…these little moments when they were off from work and where they could be not Jongdae the professional star football player or Sehun the distinguished sports journalist…but just Jongdae and Sehun.  
  
Neighbors chatting over the wall.  
  
People enjoying each other’s company.  
  
Friends on the verge of perhaps something else.  
  
But Jongdae would never be just satisfied with talking over a wall. If he wasn’t satisfied when he scored a two-goal brace when he knew it could’ve been a three-goal hat trick, if he wasn’t satisfied when he signed a loan and not a full contract with Bayern, if he wasn’t satisfied with any interview that wasn’t Sehun’s, then there was no way he was satisfied now.  
  
And so he took a step forward as if he was taking a daring shot at a goal even though it was risky and there was a chance he’d miss.  
  
“Can I come over today,” Jongdae said as he hoisted himself over the wall and jumped onto Sehun’s side of the grass, “Training ended early, and Ollie’s sleeping.”  
  
Strangely enough, his heart was beating so rapidly even though all he did was jump a wall. He wasn’t supposed to have his heart racing this quickly from this simple athletic activity…he was supposed to be in a wonderfully fit condition, so what was _this_.  
  
“Did you ask me or invite yourself over,” Sehun said as Jongdae walked up the porch stairs without waiting for an answer. But he did not stop Jongdae as he pulled up a chair to sit next to him.  
  
“Are you working?” Jongdae asked as he peered over at the writing on Sehun’s notebooks that were sprawled across his lap, “Can I help?”  
  
“I thought you didn’t like words. Or lyrics at least,” Sehun said.  
  
“Yeah, but they’re _your_ words. So they must be good. Why don’t you read me what you’ve written out loud? It’ll help you catch any possible mistakes, right?” Jongdae asked.  
  
Sehun paused before beginning to read his report about Dortmund’s shock loss to Schalke at home.  
  
And Jongdae didn’t care that Sehun was reading to him about football. he could honestly be reading anything at all to him, from a whole dictionary to every single word of his long contract with Bayern, and he’d love every second of it.  
  
It also didn’t hurt that Jongdae pretended that Sehun was reading him sweet declarations and soft sentiments not related to football at all.  
  
But it wasn’t that hard to pretend, as from the tender way Sehun read to Jongdae, Jongdae felt not like he had just run a million miles through the rain, but as if he had just scored a beautiful goal alone even though no one was watching.  
  


 

ϟ

  
  
South Korea’s standings in the qualification stages for the AFC Asian Cup and the FIFA World Cup weren’t _bad_. Sure, Jongdae would have liked if they had been able to win the game against Qatar instead of tying, and sure, Jongdae would have liked if their latest game against Iran had ended with a higher goal difference victory in their favor.  
  
But as South Korea was sitting second in their group...second to China as Jongdae dissatisfiedly noted…it wasn’t too _bad_.  
  
As long as they didn’t slip any lower than third, not that Jongdae would have allowed that to happen, South Korea would be in a good position to qualify for major international tournaments.  
  
But as he was preparing to leave for a home game in Seoul against Uzbekistan, South Korea’s standings were the least of his worries. The old lady who had looked after Ollie the previous times he had to leave was away visiting her daughter in Baden-Württemberg and thus unable to look after Jongdae’s cat...who was hissing as Jongdae pushed him into his carrier as he frantically wondered what to do, what to do, what to do.  
  
He couldn’t take him to the airport with him last minute, could he?  
  
But as Jongdae stared out his window and gazed at the porch light that was still shining so brightly even though it was the early morning, he had his answer.  
  
“Sehun,” Jongdae cheerfully called as soon as he stood on his stepstool and looked into Sehun’s yard.  
  
“ _Sehun_ ,” Jongdae loudly called again when no one answered or came to greet him.  
  
Jongdae was prepared to climb over the wall himself while still holding Ollie until Sehun slid open his screen door and hopped onto his own stepstool to greet Jongdae.  
  
“So…as you know,” Jongdae said, “I have a very important home game at Seoul soon, so I have to catch my flight this morning to be there.”  
  
“Yes…Good luck again,” Sehun nodded, “You’ll do amazingly.”  
  
“Thank you, Sehun,” Jongdae said before steering the conversation back to the issue, “But can I ask you for a favor?”  
  
“Of course. What is it?” Sehun asked.  
  
“Take care of Ollie for me?” Jongdae said, gently hoisting Ollie’s carrier over and pushing it to Sehun’s chest.  
  
“I’m…” Sehun said, stunned as he gripped the cage and let the full weight of Ollie’s carrier sink in after Jongdae let go.  
  
“Here’s his food…Feed him twice a day,” Jongdae said as he gently lowered a bag filled with the needed supplies over Sehun’s side of the wall.  
  
“Jongdae, I…don’t know if I can do this? I’ve never looked after a cat before?” Sehun confusedly said, holding the carrier at arm’s length as hissing noises echoed out from it.  
  
“Bye, I have to catch my plane now, so thanks! You two will get along well,” Jongdae pleasantly said, relieved that he wouldn’t have to worry about the wellbeing of his cat.  
  
And on the day of Seoul’s home game against Uzbekistan, Jongdae stunned and wowed the crowd with a three-goal thriller before being subbed off as Jongin eagerly came onto the pitch, happy to play even though it was only for ten minutes.  
  
It would have been nice if he could’ve seen the whole game through, but…he knew he was going to be sore tomorrow from all the hard playing, so perhaps it was for the best that he took a break. He had to think about being fit for Bayern’s games when he came back, too.  
  
On the way to the airport to catch his flight back to Munich, Jongdae didn’t mind the soreness in his muscles that much when he saw some kids with his name and number on the backs of their jerseys.  
  
Look how far he’d come.  
  
When he finally came back home and climbed over that wall, he looked into the Sehun’s living room, and saw Sehun on the floor playing with his cat. Jongdae’s heart felt like it was on the verge of bursting as he noticed the way Sehun’s hair looked so wonderfully messy and unlike its usual polished and proper look, the way Sehun’s eyes crinkled up like little crescents when he smiled, and the way his laughter seemed to echo even from inside his house.  
  
And when he finally saw Jongdae knocking outside, Sehun straightened up and ran his hand through his hair to push it back in an effort to tidy himself before opening the door.  
  
“I saw your game. It was _amazing_ ,” Sehun said.  
  
“I read your recent articles. They were _amazing_ ,” Jongdae smiled before Ollie meowed and brushed past Jongdae’s leg affectionately.  
  
“It seemed like you had fun with my cat,” Jongdae said, “I’m sorry I had to leave him with you last minute…”  
  
“Yeah, I did…and it’s no problem. He behaved well….I mean except for the one slashed cushion, but that’s fine,” Sehun said.  
  
“Thanks for looking after him again. You really saved me,” Jongdae said, bending down to scoop up Ollie. But his fickle cat instead hissed and wriggled out of Jongdae’s grasp and scampered down the dark hallway.  
  
“I guess he doesn’t want to leave,” Jongdae said, “Maybe I’ll come pick him up tomorrow?”  
  
Sehun didn’t say anything, but he looked at Jongdae…with hopeful, pleading eyes and a gaze that said more than a thousand words could say.  
  
_Stay?_  
  
Jongdae silently answered by sitting on the floor next to Sehun before asking him how he’d been.  
  
_Yes. Of course._  


ϟ

  
  
“Why are you in such a rush to get home nowadays?” Baekhyun asked him one day as they were jogging together at practice, “We barely hang out after practice anymore, and it’d just be easier if you waited for me so I could drive you home.”  
  
“I’ve…just been tired recently,” Jongdae brushed off Baekhyun’s question, “I’ve just needed to rest more nowadays.”  
  
Baekhyun wasn’t satisfied with his answer, giving him an odd look before changing the subject.  
  
“Are you going home for winter break? We can pick a date and fly home together! It’ll be fun,” Baekhyun offered.  
  
“Sorry, Baekhyun…I think I’m staying here for the winter. My parents are vacationing in a different country anyways, and we’ve been flying so much lately, you know? I just want to stay here for the winter,” Jongdae apologetically said, but it was sweet of Baekhyun to offer.  
  
“Ah…I see,” Baekhyun said and offered Jongdae a smile that looked more like a grimace, “I’ll call you during break then. I’ll miss you.”  
  
“Let’s hang out before you leave then,” Jongdae said, feeling bad that he hadn’t been spending enough time with Baekhyun lately, “I’ll even let you drive me around if you want.”  
  
“Really?” Baekhyun’s expression instantly brightened, “Let me know when you’re free, and I’ll come get you.”  
  
Later that week, Baekhyun picked up Jongdae and drove him to a nearby field.  
  
Oddly enough, the two of them never tired of football even though they practiced and played it so much, and soon, they both spent their day chasing each other while passing balls around, laughing as the clouds drifted slowly across the sky to conceal the sun.  
  
Soon after, the two of them collapsed into a pile of heaving lungs, tangled limbs, and Jongdae was glad he knew exactly what this was.  
  
This was Baekhyun.  
  
This was fun.  
  
This was friendship.  
  
There wasn’t anything confusing about spending time with Baekhyun. Jongdae knew what these hugs meant, what this time meant, what this relationship meant. He was good friends with Baekhyun, and he was content with just that.  
  
“You should go home, Jongdae…Go back with me this break,” Baekhyun said, hugging him one last time before they parted.  
  
Jongdae didn’t go with Baekhyun to the airport, but he still went home, and while his living room was illuminated in darkness, the porch lights beyond the wall shone bright.  
  
Sehun.  
  
Was he going home, too?  
  
Curious, Jongdae walked out to his backyard even though it was late, even though it was cold, and even though he was just wearing his muddy t-shirt, and climbed onto the stepstool before calling out Sehun’s name. His voice was loud enough, so within moments, Sehun slid back his screen door and walked out to meet Jongdae.  
  
“You didn’t bring your jacket?” Sehun asked, noticing Jongdae’s shivering self.  
  
“No, I just wanted to—” Jongdae began to say before Sehun shrugged off his own jacket and handed it to Jongdae.  
  
“How is this going to help? Now you’re going to be cold,” Jongdae said, though something within him fluttered at the kind gesture.  
  
“I’m going to go inside if you don’t take this,” Sehun said, the moonlight illuminating his stubborn gaze, “And I have a sweater underneath at least...unlike you.”  
  
Jongdae didn’t intend for their conversation to be long, as he just wanted to ask Sehun this…but he conceded and reached across to take Sehun’s jacket before thanking him and throwing it over his shoulders.  
  
“I just wanted to ask…” Jongdae said, causing Sehun to raise his eyebrows and hold his breath.  
  
“Are you going back to South Korea during the break?” he finished, and Sehun visibly exhaled. Perhaps he was expecting a different question. “I’m not…and if you are, then we should spend time together before you go back.”  
  
“I’m not going home either. Do you want to come over more during the break? We can just…do what we usually do. Except for longer periods of time…and more often,” Sehun asked, trying to contain his hope calmly.  
  
“I’d love that,” Jongdae smiled. Really…Sehun was so precious, and it was heartwarming to see he was as eager as Jongdae was to spend time with each other.  
  
“Interview me tomorrow. We’re off now, so come over…and you can interview me,” Sehun shyly said.  
  
“I’ll prepare my best questions,” Jongdae nodded.  
  
And tomorrow, true to his word, Jongdae eagerly climbed the wall to interview Sehun.  
  
“Are you sure you should be climbing the wall so often? What if you get injured because you fell off of it wrongly,” Sehun concernedly asked as he opened the back door of his house to let Jongdae in after watching him climb from the window.  
  
“If I manage to not get injured during my games or training, then you shouldn’t worry,” Jongdae good-naturedly said, patting Sehun’s shoulder in greeting.  
  
“Just be careful…Maybe I’ll just go over to your house more often since it’ll be easier,” Sehun warily said.  
  
“And now what if you slip and break your wrist? How will you work?” Jongdae said, “I’ll have to come over, spoon feed you, and take care of you until you’re better.”  
  
“I can use my other hand just _fine_ if that happens,” Sehun scowled, but his cheeks were tinged with a delicate red now.  
  
“Anyways,” Jongdae said after they were seated together on Sehun’s couch, “I’ll be you today. Interview time.”  
  
Jongdae leaned over, lightly plucking Sehun’s glasses from his face to place them over the top of his forehead.  
  
“You can wear them if you want…They’re non-prescription since I don’t actually need those glasses,” Sehun said.  
  
“Really?” Jongdae said before lowering down Sehun’s glasses onto the bridge of his nose. Oh. They were just glass.  
  
“Yeah…I…I’m a little young to be working in such a high level position in this field, so I wear it because it’ll make me look more professional,” Sehun asked.  
  
“How old are you then?” Jongdae asked, adjusting the glasses just like the way he saw Sehun do so many times. And when Sehun answered, he could not help but let out a gasp.  
  
“You’re _twenty_?” Jongdae shockingly said as he looked up and down at Sehun, “You look so much older oh my—“  
  
“That’s why I have to present myself as professionally as possible,” Sehun said, “No one takes me seriously when I say I’m just twenty, so I let my work speak for myself.”  
  
“Wow…I’m impressed,” Jongdae said admiringly, “How did you land such a prestigious sports journalism job at such a young age?”  
  
“Because…I’m the best in my field,” Sehun said before tilting his chin up to do his best impression of Jongdae, “Because I’m Oh Sehun.”  
  
“I love how alike we think,” Jongdae grinned before becoming serious, “Now prepare yourself…I have lots of questions I want to ask.”  
  
Jongdae learned that Sehun was fluent in seven languages, that he didn’t listen to music with lyrics either most of the time because he thought they distracted from his own words, and that for a sports journalist, Sehun was apparently pretty fucking awful at sports.  
  
“What do you mean you can’t run the whole length of the pitch without feeling like you ran a marathon,” Jongdae asked.  
  
“What I mean is that I get tired easily…I’m only good at writing about sports, so if you ask me to play one-on-one with you right now, I’ll never score any goals and you’ll score thirty,” Sehun admitted.  
  
“Well. Also because I’m a professional athlete. But I get your point…I guess I’ll have to test you one day and teach you properly,” Jongdae said.  
  
“Jongdae, it’s December. It’s snowing outside. What If you trip on the ice and injure yourself?” Sehun asked.  
  
“Sehun, it’s so sweet of you to be concerned,” Jongdae said, and immediately wrote off the blush that immediately dusted Sehun’s cheeks as due to the warmth of the heater, “But I’ve survived playing through rain and snow. I think I’ll be fine.”  
  
“Don’t think I didn’t see your little slip against CSKA Moscow. That was some trip,” Sehun teased, “It’s good you weren’t injured after that.”  
  
“You saw that?” Jongdae’s jaw dropped, feeling slightly embarrassed. Although he managed to pick himself up as fast as he could, falling in front of the world was still embarrassing.  
  
“I also saw the part where you almost fell again and then kept walking as if no one would see,” Sehun smugly nodded before Jongdae tackled him with a whine.  
  
“That’s a red card! Red card! You should be _carded_ ,” Sehun laughed as Jongdae pushed him downwards onto the seat of the couch, climbed over him, and tickled him for a few moments.  
  
“Something like this never happens in the sport, so are you sure that’s how the referee would act,” Jongdae said, leaning in to speak closely as he hovered inches from Sehun’s face. Sehun fell silent, his chest heaving from the energy he exerted to resist Jongdae. But it was no use…here he was…pinned underneath him and feeling so overwhelmed as he looked up at the man who had won so easily.  
  
But just as quickly as Jongdae had leapt upon him, he left, gently lifting himself up off of Sehun before apologizing and helping him up.  
  
“So. Now it’s my turn to ask you this…What do you do on lazy afternoons?” Jongdae said so casually that Sehun wasn’t sure if the moment before this had mattered to him.  
  
“I write,” Sehun said as Jongdae threw him a look, “Really, I do! I just take things more easily, and I let myself have the time to do the things I want in between.”  
  
Jongdae briefly thought of how Sehun visited him the most on Sundays, and feeling pleased, he accepted Sehun’s answer before letting the conversation slowly drift to more serious topics as they became relevant.  
  
“Sehun, why does your job sometimes make you…uncomfortable?” Jongdae carefully said, “You don’t have to tell me if you don't want to, but I just want to know so I can keep it from happening again….Like that day I found you after an interview.”  
  
That day Sehun accepted his offer for an interview.  
  
That day that started _this_.  
  
That day.  
  
“The writing part is so easy,” Sehun said after a while, his hands nervously fumbling with each other. Jongdae wanted to reach out and comfortingly grasp Sehun’s hands, but instead listened.  
  
“Is it the reporting part then?” Jongdae gently asked.  
  
“Yeah. I…I just don’t like it when conversations veer off topic and I don’t have anything I previously prepared to say,” Sehun said, “I’m not very good at talking, so the thought of tripping over my words, pausing too long when I’m on the job and being filmed live…is a lot of pressure. Pressure I can’t always handle.”  
  
“Well I think you’re brave for doing it anyways,” Jongdae said, “And I wouldn’t have even realized you were nervous the whole time you conducted your interviews or your commentaries.”  
  
“You watch my interviews?” Sehun said, looking up, intrigued by what Jongdae implied.  
  
“Yeah…you’re the best journalist after all,” Jongdae nodded, happy to admit that anytime.  
  
“I like watching your matches, too,” Sehun smiled.  
  
This time Jongdae did contentedly take Sehun’s hand in his before a comfortable silence fell between them. Jongdae was very conscious of how nicely Sehun’s larger hand fit in his, where all the little callouses were on Sehun’s fingers, and how he suddenly didn’t feel like letting go at all.  
  
Sehun didn’t question the action, but simply encouraged it, rubbing his thumb over the skin of Jongdae’s hand and occasionally murmuring how soft Jongdae’s hand was.  
  
Jongdae didn’t know what this was, but he didn’t want it to end…that was for sure.  
  
But the weather perhaps had a different idea in mind as it began snowing outside. Sehun’s porch looked as if a cloud had begun melting onto it.  
  
“Oh, the snow,” Jongdae exclaimed as he watched the snow fall, “Maybe I should go before it snows any harder…It looks freezing out there.”  
  
_Maybe I should go?_  
  
“Isn’t it warmer inside here?” Sehun asked before appearing as if he agreed with Jongdae and let go of his hand. But then he simply placed an arm around Jongdae’s shoulder, causing a flurry of pleasant shivers to course through Jongdae’s body.  
  
_Stay?_  
  
“Much warmer now,” Jongdae said as he welcomed the touch and leaned onto the crook of Sehun’s neck and pressed his body against his.  
  
_Yes. Of course._  


ϟ

  
  
True to his word, Jongdae dragged Sehun out to the football field near their homes in the middle of fucking _December_ to practice and to teach him how to dribble and shoot the ball.  
  
At the beginning of their practice, Sehun did honestly try to learn. He really did.  
  
He copied the angle in which Jongdae showed him to place his foot before kicking, yes…and he even had a nice, powerful stance that he stood in, so Jongdae thought that _surely_ Sehun must have been joking when he said that he was awful at sports.  
  
Then Sehun tried to kick the ball.  
  
Tried.  
  
And _missed_.  
  
“That’s okay,” Jongdae said encouragingly, trying to hide his amused smile as Sehun groaned, “Really, that’s okay! Try again!”  
  
Sehun tried again, and successfully managed to kick the ball…but in the wrong direction.  
  
“Don’t worry about it,” Jongdae said, a laugh slipping between his words as he tried to console Sehun, “Here, let’s practice passing. I think you’d be amazing at that.”  
  
Sehun wasn’t bad at passing, but he couldn’t really keep up with Jongdae’s fast pace, so Jongdae slowed down until they were jogging around the pitch passing the ball between them. Even if it was cold, the exercise and time spent together warmed them up easily.  
  
“Jongdae…can we take a break,” Sehun said after ten minutes of passing as he panted, his breath forming small clouds in the cold air.  
  
So usually their practice would end with Sehun bundled up in thick scarves while sitting on a blanket-covered ground occasionally looking up to admire Jongdae running across the field with the ball dancing between his feet.  
  
“Hey…break time’s over,” Jongdae said as he jogged over to Sehun’s blanket, “You need to stay warm in this weather, too…So come back up.”  
  
Jongdae offered a hand to pull Sehun up, but Sehun simply stared at it and gripped his pens tighter.  
  
“Jongdae, I’m literally useless at sports. You’ve seen me try. And fail,” Sehun said.  
  
“Yes…but you can try _again_ ,” Jongdae said, bending down to grab Sehun’s hand. But Sehun did not make any move to get up, so Jongdae crouched while still holding his hand.  
  
“Yes, but there is no shame in recognizing that you are good at some things, but awful at others. I know I’m the best at journalism…but it’s not a bad thing to be terrible at sports. You can make that up for me,” Sehun shook his head.  
  
“Fine…we can try another day. But can you still get up? I’ve been missing penalties lately,” Jongdae admitted, “Maybe it’s a mental block, but I want to keep practicing them since I feel responsible. Can you be goalie for me? Or at least stand there so I can practice my penalties with someone?”  
  
“Jongdae…I’ve seen how hard you can kick. What if you kick me, _fuck_ it’s going to hurt, isn’t it? And I need these hands to write…so what happens if you—“ Sehun began to say, gripping Jongdae’s hand tighter in his worry.  
  
“Do you trust me to kick the ball away from you?” Jongdae asked, “Do you trust me?”  
  
Sehun looked at Jongdae carefully for a moment, and in between the silence that fell, Jongdae was very aware again of how wonderfully pleasant holding hands with Sehun was.  
  
And Sehun didn’t have to say it, but from the way he finally used Jongdae’s weight to stand up and the way he silently turned without another word to head straight to the middle of the goalposts, Jongdae had his answer.  
  
Jongdae practiced his penalty kicks until the moon came out and Sehun was left resting and falling asleep on the side of the goal. He could have stopped practicing, but he kept on going until he couldn’t feel the exhaustion anymore and watched as the balls sailed to the left side of the net away from Sehun.  
  
Soon, Jongdae dragged Sehun all the way home and made him sit on his couch while he brewed them hot tea to fend off the snowy cold. Sehun sleepily nodded while Ollie jumped onto him and kneaded his lap with his paws before settling down and curling up with him.  
  
The two of them didn’t need to say anything as they just sat next to each other while the hot tea and sweet sentiments warmed them. It was so nice…so lovely to be able to sit in quiet companionship just enjoying each other’s presences and feeling content.  
  
Jongdae didn’t know how long they must’ve spent like this together, but suddenly he was aware of how fast the time had passed after Sehun broke the silence.  
  
“It’s getting late…I think I’m going to call it a night. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Sehun yawned, breaking the silence, and as he stood, the space next to Jongdae suddenly felt so empty.  
  
Jongdae didn’t say anything, but his actions did as he grabbed the edge of Sehun’s coat and tugged it back.  
  
_Stay._  
  
Sehun, too, was wordless as he paused, but as he silently sat back down and sleepily leaned against Jongdae, his message was clear.  
  
_Yes. Of course._  
  
There were moments like these when the two of them didn’t have to say anything to each other, but were still perfectly understood.  
  
Like when a televised, open interview of Sehun’s suddenly came on TV. Sehun didn’t say anything, but as Jongdae observed the way he looked away and clenched his eyes shut, that was enough for Jongdae to understand and immediately switch the channel or turn it off.  
  
Like when Sehun was switching channels of the radio and a mainstream song with a vocalist came on. Jongdae didn’t say anything, but as Sehun observed the way he gritted his teeth and took a deep breath, that was enough for Sehun to panic and quickly change the station or turn it off.  
  
Like when Jongdae winced as he walked around, obviously still sore from hard training schedules or games. No one asked him to, but Sehun would call Jongdae over and give him a deep massage to help him feel better.  
  
Like when Sehun would come crashing on his couch with dark circles under his eyes and Jongdae would gently place a blanket over him before rushing to the kitchen to make him tea or coffee.  
  
Like these moments…moments when words weren’t needed to be understood.  
  
But other times, Jongdae would have to be brave enough to directly ask Sehun things instead of just showing his affection through actions.  
  
_Do you want to get dinner sometime?  
  
Do you want to watch some clouds with me today?  
  
Do you want to go to the park with me?_  
  
And for all of Jongdae’s questions, he luckily received only positive answers.  
  
“I’d love to,” Sehun would say.  
  
So during this winter break, Sehun and Jongdae often found themselves at the park even though it was chilly. But the cold winter wind and the sparse snow failed to bother their heavily bundled up selves, as they were too immersed within each other and whatever they were doing.  
  
Sehun, who mostly sat on the park bench and wrote while Jongdae practiced football in the field beside him, often looked as if he was on the verge of saying something, but always remained silent instead.  
  
Jongdae didn’t notice the way Sehun looked up often from his work to admiringly gaze at him, as he was too focused on whatever tricks he was practicing today. But whenever he grew tired, he’d find himself sitting next to Sehun and watching him work. Or at least he tried.  
  
“Do you want me to put my work away? So the words don’t scare you,” Sehun joked, but still put his work away to shift his full focus to Jongdae. Only Jongdae.  
  
“How thoughtful,” Jongdae said, “But I just don’t like how definite they have to be.”  
  
“Oh, but with the right words and talent, words can mean anything depending on the way you interpret them,” Sehun said.  
  
“But there are some words or phrases that have no deeper or double meaning. Like…When someone says ‘I like you.’ That’s it. That’s literally it. They got their point across. And besides…I’m an athlete. I prefer actions,” Jongdae shook his head, “Actions show what a thousand words say.”  
  
“But at the same time…aren’t there some actions that can have a thousand meanings that would take only a word to describe? Actions are not so different from words, you know,” Sehun said and grabbed Jongdae’s hand before Jongdae could say anything else.  
  
“See? This. What does this mean? It might mean something to me…but you might interpret _this_ differently,” he said as he gripped Jongdae’s hand tighter and tighter, “I can use just one word to describe it though.”  
  
“Holding hands might mean…a show of trust…companionship…Is this platonic? Is this something else? See, it has so many possibilities, but words would define it right away. You need words in this case…So maybe you’re just afraid of defining what you mean and stating it explicitly,” Sehun said.  
  
Jongdae was at a loss for words literally, unable to say anything as Sehun continued speaking.  
  
“I won’t ask what it means for you, but you should already know what this means to me,” Sehun said, swinging their entwined hands lightly, “But I won’t say what this means since you don’t want this to be too literal. I understand.”  
  
Sehun paused for a moment to gaze at Jongdae and give him a chance to interject…to speak.  
  
“I…” Jongdae tried to say something… _anything_.  
  
Nothing.  
  
“Don’t worry,” Sehun said, his expression softening, “You don’t have to say anything now.”  
  
Jongdae felt something inside of him scream…for him to act, to do something…But he was frozen…frozen when words mattered the most as all he could do was grip Sehun’s hand tighter and tighter.  
  
“Just know…that I’m ready when you are,” Sehun said, smiling a devastatingly beautiful smile that made Jongdae’s heart beat so fast and caused him to feel as if he was nervously waiting for his presentation press conference at Bayern to start all over again.  
  
“Just tell me when, and I’ll run to you,” Sehun said before silence crept upon them again as the clouds above parted to reveal the sun.  
  
 

ϟ

  
  
Sehun didn’t bring up their conversation again, but Jongdae understood.  
  
Perhaps he wasn’t ready to say it, but he was still here…still so fond of Sehun either way.  
  
If he was not ready to put what he felt into words, he still showed Sehun the only way he knew for now…by leaning into Sehun more and more, taking care of him more and more when Sehun pulled more sleepless nights huddled over his work, reaching over to take and hold his hand more and more.  
  
The action of holding hands without words to define what it meant was paradoxically both a statement and an ambiguity.  
  
What did it mean?  
  
What didn’t it mean?  
  
But this…this wordless _something_ was the best Jongdae could do for now.  
  
And that was okay.  
  
Sehun knew.  
  
And he was patient enough to understand.  
  
Winter break was a relaxing pause from work and weekly traveling, so when break finally ended, Jongdae did not want to give up seeing Sehun less often as they both resumed their busy schedules.  
  
So he continued to go out of his way to visit Sehun, to greet him affectionately, to chat with him in the press section of the stadiums. Similarly, Sehun sometimes waited for him after Bayern games he covered to wish him well before he left to attend press conferences and conduct interviews. And when Bayern had home games they both attended, Sehun would often drive the both of them to the stadium.  
  
They couldn’t go back to winter break where they were at their houses so often, as the reality of their work sank in, but this would be enough.  
  
If his teammates were confused or concerned with how friendly Jongdae was with a journalist…of all people…they never said anything at first. But Jongdae could guess what they were thinking from the odd stares they gave him when they caught him good-naturedly talking with Sehun and sharing secrets between sweet smiles.  
  
“I didn’t know you talk with a journalist so much,” Baekhyun confronted him one day at practice. He made sure to keep his voice low as if they were discussing some forbidden matter.  
  
“Oh, it’s not like that,” Jongdae shook his head.  
  
“Then what is it like?” Baekhyun asked, looking concernedly at Jongdae.  
  
“It’s nothing bad or whatever you’re guessing,” Jongdae shook his head, “We’re friends.”  
  
_Friends_.  
  
What another ambiguously definite term.  
  
Yes, they were friends. But that didn’t mean they were restricted to _just_ friends. Jongdae just didn’t want to put to words what they were playing on the edge of yet though.  
  
“Friends? You can’t be friends with a journalist, Jongdae. This team…they’ve been having problems with a mole leaking information to the press. What if they think it’s you?” Baekhyun warned.  
  
“I would never,” Jongdae said, “And Sehun isn’t the type to write articles on trashy tabloid content to create drama.”  
  
“So his name is Sehun,” Baekhyun said thoughtfully.  
  
“Yeah. He’s the best journalist,” Jongdae said.  
  
“You really think highly of him,” Baekhyun said, his jaw clenching strangely.  
  
“It’s just the truth,” Jongdae shrugged, “If you read his articles, you’d understand.”  
  
“You sound like you like him,” Baekhyun said. He raced ahead as he completed the drill they were working on, weaving in and out of staggered poles before stopping at the end to wait for Jongdae.  
  
“Of course I do. He’s my friend,” Jongdae said after he met Baekhyun on the other side, and though his answer fooled not even Baekhyun or his own self, Baekhyun conceded and dropped the subject.  
  
“Anyways…do something about that before someone else notices and makes a bigger deal out of it,” Baekhyun shook his head, “And I’ll be at your place tomorrow early to pick you up for tomorrow’s home game.”  
  
“Oh…you don’t have to pick me up anymore for home games,” Jongdae said, “I have a ride.”  
  
Before Baekhyun could ask just who exactly was his ride even though he could guess, Jongdae jogged a little faster and left Baekhyun behind, as it was his turn to practice free kicks.

 

 

ϟ 

 

  
  
Jongdae came to look even more forward to the days where Bayern would play home games at the Allianz Arena. Not only was their home crowd even livelier, but also he knew Sehun could be there watching him as he reported most of their home games.  
  
Oftentimes he would look for Sehun in the press area of the stadium and stare long enough so Sehun would feel, look up, and smile at him before getting back to work.  
  
And when Jongdae would score goals and wink at the camera, Sehun had to know that was for him…all for him.  
  
Honestly, Jongdae had just moved to Munich at the beginning of summer, but he already loved the city and was beginning to consider it a second home that he could come back to after flying all around the world playing games. He had just transferred to Bayern Munich this year, too, but he knew he already loved the club, what it stood for, its fans, and had long since dreamt of renewing his contract after his loan was over.And he had just met Sehun through the midst of this, but he knew that he already loved spending as much time as possible with him, and had long since dreamt of days and nights they could spend together without the constraints of work and schedules.  
  
Jongdae often thought about what Sehun had told him, that whenever he was ready, all he’d have to do was just tell him and he’d run to him.  
  
But ready for what?  
  
There were so many answers to that question.   
  
As he went to practice, Jongdae thought he was ready to try again and teach Sehun how to play football so they could play together. As he boarded the club bus or plane to travel to other countries to play, Jongdae thought he was ready to call Sehun whenever he reached the foreign city and tell him he missed him already. But as he was curled up next to Sehun on his couch on nights like this, Jongdae wasn’t ready to say anything about this…but still relaxed into and accepted its implications.  
  
“I’ve been invited to be on a panel of commentators discussing potential outcomes for the Champions League,” Sehun told Jongdae on days like these where their limbs were tangled and their bodies pressed together.  
  
“That’s great, Sehun! Are you going to be okay about it, though?” Jongdae asked carefully.  
  
Sehun stayed silent and jerked his head vaguely.  
  
“We can practice together so you can prepare for it,” Jongdae gently offered.  
  
“That wouldn’t work…I don’t know what questions they’re going to ask me,” Sehun said, “And _beside_ s. It’s so easy to talk when it’s just you. I never have to worry or panic about what I’m going to say.”  
  
“Hey…I know you can do it,” Jongdae said, though he felt strangely touched by Sehun’s words, “Here…let’s go through some questions they might ask so you can practice your answers first.”  
  
Jongdae was in no rush to put actions to words, so he didn’t say anything yet, as they already didn’t have enough time to spend together anyways between the football games and practices and press conferences.  
  
But when Jongdae was ready, he knew that it would be his turn to run towards Sehun.

 

ϟ

  
  
Despite a few regrettable ties and even more regrettable, rare losses, Bayern was still at the top of the Bundesliga table as expected, and were projected to wrap up the season with an early league win.  
  
Things were looking optimistically good, as most of their players were fit, in form, and dangerously ready for the staggering amount of games and semi-finals and potential finals ahead.  
  
Even Baekhyun, who had spent most of his early season on the bench, had found his way and form. He seemed to play the best with Jongdae, always appearing to know where to send the ball so Jongdae could easily reach it and send it sailing through the net and where to anticipate where Jongdae was running so he could shadow him and support his play.  
  
Jongdae especially enjoyed the games where Baekhyun was able to play longer with him on the pitch. It was easy to shout out what he was going to do to Baekhyun in Korean and have no one understand…unless they were playing Augsburg, Dortmund, or Hoffenheim where some of their South Korean national football teammates played, too.  
  
It was so nice to celebrate goals and wins with him, too, as Baekhyun’s jubilant grins and celebratory antics made everything more fun. After celebrating a win in such a joyously triumphant fashion after a recent game against FC Köln, though, journalists and reporters began making their way onto the edges of the pitch for photos and interviews.  
  
“Kim Jongdae, would you like an interview?” a familiar voice asked, causing Jongdae to turn away from Baekhyun to greet its owner with a brilliant smile.  
  
“Yes…of course I’d love to. What questions do you have for me?” Jongdae said when he saw Sehun professionally dressed with his hair neatly parted as he held out a microphone to him.  
  
“What about me?” Baekhyun suspiciously interrupted when he noticed the ease in which Jongdae and Sehun slipped into with each other.  
  
“Shh…he asked me first,” Jongdae said, intervening as Sehun gripped the microphone tighter and tighter. Sehun was already so brave for trying this today already.  
  
Baekhyun stood off to the side, watching them curiously with a pointed stare…not that Jongdae could notice anything except Sehun in this moment, as he gazed fondly at the man in front of him while answering questions about the game, his hopes for renewing his contract, and other football related things.  
  
It was his mistake to be so openly affectionate with Sehun right here, though…as not only Baekhyun noticed how easygoing and extremely friendly he was with Sehun, too.  
  
 

ϟ

  
  
Jongdae didn’t think his closeness with Sehun would be this much of a problem.  
  
Sure, Baekhyun had warned him, and he had ignored some stares he received whenever people saw him greeting Sehun so warmly.  
  
Even when Ancelotti called him into his office, Jongdae wasn’t concerned.  
  
“Is this about my contract? Are you going to ask me to renew my contract without a loan? It’s a yes…of course,” Jongdae nodded excitedly.  
  
“Well…we can talk about contracts at another time,” Ancelotti said, “But this is about a different matter, so let me just get straight to the point. How close you are with that journalist…Oh Sehun…is raising some eyebrows and making others nervous. The board is concerned that this puts you at a position to leak information to the press.”  
  
“But I would _never_ ,” Jongdae said, his expression immediately darkening.  
  
“Yes, yes…but what _if_ ,” Ancelotti said, “What if you’ve told him things that he could have easily written and released to the public.”  
  
“Listen,” Jongdae said through gritted teeth. He tried his hardest to stay calm since going off at his coach would be the worst thing he could do in a time like this. “I would never do anything to endanger the club, and Sehun doesn’t write for tabloids. He’s better than that.”  
  
“If you would never do anything to endanger the club, then please stop hanging around him,” Ancelotti gravely said, “Football players should only talk to the press when they have to…for match day interviews, press conferences…Any other time spent with a journalist outside of work is dangerous.”  
  
“Football is my life, but you cannot expect me to stop hanging around someone just because it’s bad for work,” Jongdae firmly said, feeling bothered by Ancelotti’s words.  
  
Even when he returned home and tried to spend time with Sehun to relax and take his mind off of what Ancelotti had asked of him, it seemed that Sehun was having problems of his own.  
  
Sehun looked at the screen of his phone with a distressed look on his face, but shut it off when Jongdae came too close and wrote off his discomfort with a pained smile.  
  
“Is everything okay? What’s wrong?” Jongdae asked.  
  
“It’s nothing…don’t worry about it,” Sehun insisted, “Just work problems.”  
  
“What’s wrong?” Jongdae asked again.  
  
“Don’t worry about it,” Sehun said again before shifting the subject.  
  
Sehun usually never failed to tell him what was wrong, so if he was avoiding the subject…could it be because of Jongdae?  
  
 

ϟ

  
  
The final blow came when Philipp Lahm pulled him aside during training one day for a private talk.  
  
“Jongdae,” Philipp said gently, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be seen with your journalist friend so often in public around the club. Bayern has had problems with people leaking confidential information to the press before, and I don’t want anyone to suspect you or to bring up the club in the papers again. So for your sake and the club’s…perhaps just see him in private when you don’t have schedules, okay?”  
  
Jongdae’s gaze fell downwards. He didn’t listen to his other teammates and even his own coach, but Philipp was his captain, and he trusted him deeply just like every other member of the team did.  
  
“I’ll…I’ll talk to him,” Jongdae nodded, his eyes downcast, but his head refusing to bow downwards.  
  
Even if Jongdae realized that lately he had been feeling ready to say _yes_ , maybe it was too late.  
  
His closeness with Sehun had brought harm to both of their careers, and Jongdae felt guilty as he scrolled through the comments section of Sehun’s articles and read nasty critiques thrown at him. Jongdae could take his own criticisms, but he wanted to delete and sue every single ugly comment Sehun received.  
  
“My bosses aren’t happy with my work,” Sehun admitted one day as he confided in Jongdae at last, “But I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it.”  
  
“Why? What are they saying?” Jongdae asked.  
  
“They’re accusing me of being biased,” Sehun said.  
  
“Why? Biased towards who?” Jongdae said before crossing his arms around his chest, “I’ll write them a strongly worded letter telling them how _wrong_ they are.”  
  
“That’s really cute, Jongdae,” Sehun said wearily, “But…they’re accusing me of being too biased because my match reports are always better when they’re about Bayern…and when they’re about you.”  
  
“Oh,” Jongdae said, his anger dissipating as he immediately reassured Sehun, “I hope they know they’re wrong. Your reports are always beautiful. It’s the other teams’ faults that they suck.”  
  
“I know…It isn’t bias if it’s the truth. And if they can’t see the truth, surely they must be the biased ones,” Sehun said.  
  
“Did you tell them that? To their faces?” Jongdae said, slipping a hand through Sehun’s arm and gripping it.  
  
“How could I?” Sehun’s face crumpled, “They’ve been wanting to send me to a different country to work so they wouldn’t have to deal with me. I’ve told them no, but they keep bringing it up…I don’t want to leave you.”  
  
Jongdae could not and did not have the heart to tell Sehun today that his own teammates and coach were not happy about their closeness, as Sehun was already suffering enough, so all he could do and wanted to do was comfort Sehun and assure him that his work was good…his writing was excellent…he was a wonderful writer…the best writer of all.  
  
So he just tried to ignore the stares from his teammates when Sehun still waited for him after games.  
  
“I thought Ancelotti and Philipp talked to you about him,” Baekhyun whispered to Jongdae one day when Sehun stood among the crowd that gathered to watch Bayern practice at Säbener Straße.  
  
“I’m going to talk to him…Don’t _worry_ ,” Jongdae said, “I just have to find the right time.”  
  
“I still can’t believe this is the guy you’ve been spending time with,” Baekhyun shook his head.  
  
“You’re not helping,” Jongdae threw him a look.  
  
“We have a Champions League game soon, and we don’t need international media making a big deal if they catch onto this,” Baekhyun said.  
  
“I still don’t know why my personal life is important. Sehun is just Sehun. What’s wrong with him? What’s wrong with us?” Jongdae said, leaving Baekhyun behind as he jogged ahead, wondering what to do.  
  
But in the end, he was not the one who personally told Sehun.  
  
Because when another journalist distracted Jongdae with questions that he half-heartedly answered, across the pitch, he watched with a sinking feeling as Baekhyun walked towards Sehun and introduced himself with a firm hand raised out.

 

ϟ

  
  
“How come you didn’t tell me that being close to you was damaging your career?” Sehun mournfully said later that night when Jongdae visited him, looking like absolute hell with his hair in chaos and his living room in disarray, scattered papers and pens everywhere.  
  
“I didn’t want you to have more stress,” Jongdae gently said, “And I didn’t want to listen to them. You’re important to me, Sehun.”  
  
“But your career is important, too,” Sehun said, dragging a hand through his hair, “Don’t you think you should be focusing on trying to renew your contract here? Baekhyun told me that you can’t if you don’t listen to what your coach and club wants. Bayern is your _dream_ , Jongdae.”  
  
Jongdae couldn’t say anything, but just gestured at Sehun helplessly.  
  
“You can’t have both,” Sehun shook his head, “Clearly you can’t have both.”  
  
“It’s not fair,” Jongdae said at last.  
  
“I want your career to do well. You’re talented, and it’ll kill me to see you move to an inferior club and let your talent go to waste all because of me,” Sehun said.  
  
“But I’m to blame, too,” Jongdae argued, “You’re getting pressured from work because of this apparent bias in your writing, right? Because of me, right?”  
  
“I guess we’re both not ideal for our careers,” Sehun smiled crookedly.  
  
“What do we do now,” Jongdae said at last, “If I don’t see you at games or practices, then I’ll barely see you at all because of work.”  
  
“That’s too little time,” Sehun shook his head, “What can we do, though…when we’re being ordered to stop this?”  
  
But after that, they saw each other less and less.  
  
Less and less.  
  
Just at home now.  
  
Less and less.  
  
Just on weekends now.  
  
And finally the most devastating loss came at last.  
  
“I’m going to England,” Sehun said after two weeks of suffering through less time spent together.  
  
“Okay…Are you covering Manchester City’s Champions League game? Let’s spend some time together when you’re back,” Jongdae said.  
  
“No, Jongdae, I—“ Sehun said, trying so hard to keep speaking.  
  
“Oh! Did you land a big interview with Hazard or something?” Jongdae asked, not quite understanding yet.  
  
“Jongdae,” Sehun gently tried again, “I’m being sent to England for a while. Maybe it would be best since we’re having…problems here right now. And besides. I’m already the best here, so I want to try and be the best journalist in the Premier League, too.”  
  
“Oh,” Jongdae said quietly before falling silent.  
  
Oh.  
  
“It’s not for forever. I’ll be back,” Sehun said, “I’ll be back when I’m the best there and when things quiet down enough for us to be okay.”  
  
“Then I’ll see you tomorrow. Because you’re already the best in the world to me,” Jongdae said as denial crept into his heart. Sehun couldn’t leave him now…not when he was ready to—  
  
“I’ll be back,” Sehun said again, “I promise I’ll be back, and we can figure out what to do from here.”  
  
“When are you leaving,” Jongdae numbly asked, hands already reaching for Sehun’s arm to cling onto before he would have to let go.  
  
“This weekend,” Sehun said, his words sounding like the final toll of a heavy, ominous bell that struck devastatingly in Jongdae’s heart.  
  
“This weekend?” Jongdae almost cried.  
  
“Let’s focus on our careers right now,” Sehun said, looking distressed as he noticed Jongdae’s own downcast expression, “And when you re-sign to Bayern for a long contract and I take over the Premier League, let’s meet again. Then we’ll silence those who had anything bad to say about us at all.”  
  
Jongdae opened his mouth to say something, but Sehun shook his head.  
  
“Bayern is your dream, Jongdae. Don’t let anything or anyone distract you from it,” Sehun said.  
  
“But you…you’re my—“ Jongdae began to breathlessly say before Sehun looked pained.  
  
“No, Jongdae, come on…don’t be upset. It’ll only be for a little while,” Sehun said.  
  
Jongdae began to lower his head as he felt tears gather in his eyes.  
  
“No, Jongdae…You _mustn’t_. Chin up,” Sehun said as he gently tilted Jongdae’s chin up with the tips of his fingers.  
  
“You better fucking out-write all the snooty journalists there or the next time I have a game in England, I’ll drag you back here myself,” Jongdae said, gazing defiantly as Sehun let out a low chuckle.  
  
“I will…And you? Win everything for me. Score stunning goals. Get that contract renewal. Be the best…and keep your head up in the clouds,” Sehun said.  
  
And on the day Sehun left, Jongdae tried to cling onto him, burying his head into Sehun’s neck as Sehun dropped his suitcase handle to hold him.  
  
He didn’t say anything, but Sehun knew what he meant.  
  
_Don’t go, don’t go, don’t go._  
  
As Sehun bent down to gently pry Jongdae’s body from him, he kissed his forehead, stunning Jongdae enough to let go completely.  
  
He didn’t say anything, but Jongdae knew what he meant.  
  
_I’ll miss you, I’ll miss you, I’ll miss you._  
  
Jongdae made one last feeble attempt at stopping Sehun as he reached out to grab Sehun’s hand.  
  
_Stay. Please._  
  
Sehun held onto Jongdae’s hand for a moment longer, rubbing his thumb reassuringly on Jongdae’s skin before letting go.  
  
_I’m sorry. I can’t._


	3. Chapter 3

Jongdae stormed to practice the next day prepared to work even harder, train even harder, and play even harder than before so he could renew his contract with Bayern without a doubt, so he could stay in form and score more goals, and so Sehun could come back sooner.  
  
How hard he was kicking the balls during practice, howeve, .was unnecessary, as Jongdae could have scored and passed with half the power he put into these kicks.  
  
But it still felt good to swing his foot as hard as he could and take out his frustration on kicking until people started staring.  
  
“Careful…you might injure yourself,” Ancelotti called out.  
  
Jongdae ignored him and sent an over-powered shot sailing over the goalposts. Manuel Neuer gave him a curious look, as it wasn’t common for Jongdae to miss this badly, but said nothing, as it was Robert Lewandowski’s turn to practice shooting penalties now.  
  
“Is everything alright,” Baekhyun asked him after he jogged by his side.  
  
“Yes,” Jongdae said, “Of _course_.”  
  
But from the clench of his jaw and the dangerous glint in his eyes, Jongdae gave no sign of wanting to speak about whatever was obviously troubling him, so Baekhyun simply tried to cheer him up with some light-hearted talk. It was easy to answer here and there since this was Baekhyun, but Jongdae was still sulking because Sehun was _gone_.  
  
Jongdae didn’t blame Baekhyun for telling Sehun what happened, though.  
  
It was at least good of Baekhyun to think of Jongdae and his career and do what he was unable to do.  
  
But that still didn’t make it easier to notice no familiar face watching in the crowd, no special interview waiting for him post-match during home games, and no porch lights on when he came back home.  
  
It also wasn’t easy to sit alone and miss the lingering touches, the tangled limbs, and Jongdae moped in silence as he tossed his phone between his hands at home.  
  
He wanted to see Sehun like usual, but…there was no way around it now. The only way he could do it was to talk.  
  
No actions.  
  
No touch.  
  
Just words.  
  
And so he called Sehun.  
  
“Hello?” Sehun said as he picked up Jongdae’s call, “Jongdae?”  
  
Jongdae found himself unable to say anything in the moment, trying to store that memory of Sehun’s voice as he gripped his phone tighter and tighter even though he had just seen Sehun yesterday, embraced Sehun yesterday, let go of Sehun yesterday.  
  
“Jongdae?” Sehun said again.  
  
“Sehun,” Jongdae breathlessly said.  
  
Silence.  
  
Usually this silence would be comfortable in person, as Jongdae could take the time to reach out and wrap his arms around Sehun or slip his hand into Sehun’s. But on the phone, the silence sounded cold. Static. Foreign. Trying his best, Jongdae broke the silence and spoke.  
  
“How is everything in England? Did you settle down in your place yet?” Jongdae asked calmly, as if he didn’t spend the whole day dramatically pining after him.  
  
“It’s…okay,” Sehun said, “It’s confusing here, and I got lost a couple times trying to get to the flat I rented, but…it’ll be okay.”  
  
Jongdae breathed, trying to picture Sehun lost in the busy streets of London…faceless strangers bumping into him…taxi cabs honking at him…and then breathed out.  
  
“Is the food there as bad as everyone says,” Jongdae asked, “How will you survive there for who knows how long?”  
  
Sehun laughed, a familiar sound that made Jongdae’s heart feel as if it was on the verge of breaking after he felt a rush of devastating affection.  
  
“I’ll survive, Jongdae,” he said before asking him about his day, practice, and if Ollie had slashed any new cushions yet.  
  
They continued talking, and while Jongdae missed touching Sehun and seeing him in person, hearing his voice was enough for now.  
  
And it would have to be enough for the unforeseeable future, as all of their conversations took place now through phones, text messages, or video calling.  
  
All words, words, words.  
  
As months passed by, Jongdae began to discover what Sehun meant when words could have more than one meaning as he implied more than what he said out loud.  
  
“The light on your house is never on now,” Jongdae complained, “So if Ollie climbs over your wall, then I can’t find him easily.”  
  
_I fucking miss you and I hate that you’re so far away from me._  
  
“It’s too bad I don’t know any of my other neighbors well enough…otherwise I would’ve asked them to turn it on routinely for you then,” Sehun responded.  
  
_I’m sorry things can’t be the way we want it to be right now._  
  
“I can’t believe Bayern’s going to the Champions League finals…and you’re not even going to be there to cover it,” Jongdae said.  
  
_I can’t believe so many months have passed without you here with me._  
  
“Do I look like I’d rather be covering the FA Cup Final,” Sehun said.  
  
_I’d rather be there with you any day, any night, any time._  
  
“You better cover our next match,” Jongdae grumbled.  
  
_You better come back soon._  
  
“I’ll try,” Sehun said, “I’ll try to come back as soon as I can.”  
  
There was no deep, hidden, implicit meaning to Sehun’s words then.  
  
He meant everything he said, and he really would come back one day to Jongdae as fast as he could.

 

 

ϟ

 

But honestly Jongdae didn’t get to talk to Sehun very much. Work consumed them both, and at best they could only squeeze in a few sparse, short phone calls here and there.  
  
And as for Bayern, Jongdae looked well on his way to an unquestionable contract renewal after all the success Bayern found themselves in.  
  
The early spring month of May saw Bayern wrapping up their Bundesliga title early after a win against FC Augsburg in which Jongdae assisted two goals that Thomas Müller scored.  
  
It was unlike Jongdae to focus on anything but the game whenever he played, but he kept looking towards the clock ticking to signal the end of the game so it would be official…that Bayern won.  
  
And after the final whistle blew in that historic game, Jongdae blinked, trying to process everything and make sure it was all real, real, _real_ …as Bayern’s fans rambunctiously cheered in delight.

 

 

AND THAT’S THAT! BAYERN HAVE WON THE BUNDESLIGA TITLE THE EARLIEST THEY’VE EVER DONE, BREAKING THEIR PREVIOUS RECORD LAST SEASON!

  
  
Jongdae was euphoric, letting out a jubilant scream as he excitedly punched the air with his fist. No other moment like this…a moment he’d been dreaming of all his life…winning his first Bundesliga title with Bayern…could ever be forgotten even through all the rest of his honors and wins he’d have in his career.  
  
He wished that he could have a family one day to celebrate this with though, as when they celebrated on the pitch, he wistfully looked at his teammates’ kids and spent time chasing Julian Lahm, Philipp Lahm’s small son, with Thomas Müller as they took turns letting him score on them.  
  
Perhaps one day he could have the rules bent and bring Ollie on the pitch. Jongdae thought briefly for a moment and imagined the future where he watched such a scene unfold...where he watched Ollie stalk through silver streamers while his teammates’ children rushed towards him to give out their attention and affection....and where he stood, able to hold someone’s hand while the world may have watched but wouldn’t have cared.  
  
He didn’t need to say whose hand he wished it would be by now.  
  
But he was jolted from his dreams as attendants began entering the pitch carrying the biggest glasses of beer Jongdae had ever seen in his life. It was tradition for every Bundesliga winner to celebrate with the tallest glasses of beer that usually went wasted and poured on teammates and coaches.  
  
Baekhyun demonstrated such a tradition as he showered Jongdae with beer before Jongdae laughingly took a tall glass from a waiting attendant and emptied all of its contents onto Baekhyun’s head in retribution before Baekhyun tackled him to the floor and wrestled him, their beer-soaked skin and bliss-drenched hearts gleaming in the moment.  
  
When it was finally time for the Bundesliga shield to be presented to Bayern, Jongdae’s teammates took turns lifting the shield up while their fans clapped and cheered in response as they watched around the stadium.  
  
And when it was Jongdae’s turn to hold up the shield, he thought that surely…surely all his hard work and sacrifices had paid off, and never did his arms feel sore even though he held the shield up for a long time before he passed it to Kimmich.  
  
Soon, the crowd began to sing “Mia San Mia,” and Jongdae listened, overwhelmed with emotion as so many people celebrated this well-deserved win with them.  
  
_We are who we are._  
  
And today, Jongdae was exactly who he felt he was.  
  
An immortal, untouchable legend.  


 

ϟ

  
  
But Bayern’s final against Dortmund to win the DFB Cup made Jongdae feel more human, more breakable as he found it harder to cut though the defense, harder to get a shot on target, harder to keep on trying when so many attempts were shut down and blocked. After a goalless first half, both teams were frustrated with each other, and Jongdae was becoming increasingly unsatisfied with how the rest of his team were having a hard time finding openings to score.  
  
It would seem that Bayern’s best chances at a goal would be to shoot out of the box or to try for corners.  
  
When Lahm passed the ball to him, Jongdae impatiently dribbled the ball around, unable to advance any further than what two Dortmund defenders allowed him, and impulsively shot the ball towards the post and sent it just wide of the net.  
  
“Focus, Jongdae,” Ancelotti called from the touchline.  
  
Jongdae glared at the people running in front of him before using his anger to fuel his play.  
  
_Fine._  
  
But he never played as well as he could when he was angry, as he let his rage overpower his shots and turn his passing messy, so he found himself ineffective and unhelpful. His team fared no better at all, and soon Manuel Neuer was bellowing from Bayern’s goal that how could Dortmund fucking  _sneak_ past their defense, take advantage on the fucking _counterattacks_ , and net in _two fucking goals_ with thirty minutes left to go.  
  
Bayern’s team looked exhausted, but the singing of their fans never died down, as it only increased as they urged their players onwards, onwards, always onwards.  
  
Thirty minutes would be enough to equalize.  
  
Thirty minutes would be enough to score extra goals.  
  
Thirty minutes would be enough to win.  
  
Sure enough, powered by the singing of their fans and the burning desire in their hearts to win, win, _win_ …Bayern surged forwards and struck back once on the eightieth minute with a goal from Lewandowski.  
  
1-2  
  
With ten minutes left on the clock, Bayern tried again and again, sending balls from corners, crosses everywhere…  
  
But it was too hard.  
  
Dortmund’s players were too good, too good at dropping back to let Bayern pursue and do all the work.  
  
Jongdae was ready to fall to his knees in defeat as the three minutes of extra time fell, exhausted by the game, until Thomas Müller headed in a last minute cross by Alonso and had the crowd roaring again.  
  
2-2  
  
Jongdae yelled, running to Thomas to celebrate the goal before finally slumping onto the grass once the second half ended.  
  
Extra time…they’d have to play extra time to determine who would break the tie and win.  
  
Jongdae couldn’t remember since when playing games had become so exhausting. Maybe it was his aging self, the intensity of the game, and the increasing amount of games played, but he welcomed the half time break, only half-listening as Ancelotti reviewed tactics with the players.  
  
Things were working, slowly but surely, and they just needed to increase the intensity and the tempo of their game and keep pressing on and on until they had their winning goal.  
  
Sure enough, Bayern’s players forged onwards, again and again…if anything, trying harder and harder as the encouragement of the crowd and their singing urged them on.  
  
But still, Jongdae was tired, exhausted this game. Perhaps today just wasn’t his day, and he was quietly relieved when Ancelotti subbed him out for Thiago Alcântara. It was hard to stay in form and fit for the whole season, and Jongdae could feel the effects of so many games played this season as he stopped to take a breath.  
  
As he sat on the bench, he watched as Thiago went on to score the winning goal.   
  
Relieved, Jongdae ran onto the pitch to celebrate the hard-won win.  
  
That was such a difficult and unusually exhausting game for him, and he hoped that after some rest, he’d be able to handle the next match.  
  
But the Champions League final Bayern played against FC Barcelona was even more difficult.  
  
If Bayern won the Champions League final, then they would win the elusive Treble, the most prestigious honor, as it would mean they won the domestic league and cup as well as this elite Champions League title. But Barcelona had won the Champions League five times before, and playing against such a top, incredibly talented team was daunting.  
  
So naturally, this game was by far one of the toughest games Jongdae played.  
  
The atmosphere was tense, and the pressure of the situation was enormous. Hissing and booing blended in with the screams and cheers, so a terrifying rumble of just noise, noise, noise thundered all around the pitch. Jongdae had to take a deep breath so he could run without feeling as if his shaking legs could give out any second.  
  
The first half passed by in a goalless blur. Jongdae remembered attempting a few shots and trying to pass the ball when he had possession to anyone even remotely near the penalty box, but Barça’s players always managed to either block the shots or fall back so it would be impossible to execute any plays or attempts at scoring. It was the same for Barça, as Manuel Neuer had easily stopped a few shots that Messi attempted, and Bayern’s defenders had managed to securely keep Barçelona from scoring.  
  
Those first forty-five minutes seemed to last an eternity, and Jongdae was glad when the referee’s whistle blew to signal the half time break.  
  
The second half, though, was rougher.  
  
Both teams were desperate to finish the game before extra time or even penalty shootouts could start, and both teams were desperate to win.  
  
So naturally, tensions rose, yellow cards were given, and it had honestly been a miracle a red card had not been shown yet. Jongdae had never played such a heated match, but it was understandable since this was the _Champions League Final_ after all.   
  
And suddenly, when Alonso passed him the ball, Jongdae saw an opening….an opening on the left side of Barça’s side of the pitch. Surely this was too easy? So Jongdae began sprinting as fast as he could, taking advantage of this lapse in defense before Barcelona’s players easily responded.  
  
At least he tried…  
  
Jongdae found himself about to be cornered by two players with no easy path out, and with a quick leap to the right, he tried to escape with the ball…But Suarez attempted to execute a tackle on Jongdae to retrieve the ball, but whether he intended to or not, ended up tackling him studs up, missing the ball completely and kicking Jongdae’s ankle.  
  
With a pained yell, Jongdae fell to the pitch and grabbed his ankle as he curled up, gritting his teeth as he tried to ignore the pain.  
  
He vaguely heard the blow of the referee’s whistle and people running towards him.  
  
“Get the hell up from the ground, Suarez…Don’t fucking dive; we all saw you tackle him,” he heard Boateng’s angry voice. Suarez was lying on the floor pretending to be hurt? Of course.  
  
“Jongdae, are you okay?” Philipp asked. But all Jongdae could do was jerk his head in reply, as he couldn’t trust himself to speak.  
  
“That’s a red card, ref! Send him off!” he heard his teammates arguing around him, but all Jongdae could focus on was his ankle.  
  
“Are you okay?” Thomas asked him, reaching down to grab his hand and to try and help him up.  
  
But Jongdae shook his head again, so Thomas let go of his hand…though patted him on the back and promised that the medics were coming.  
  
“Jongdae, we need you to take your hand off your ankle so we can examine it,” one medic said. Around him, Suarez only received a yellow card, and Bayern’s fans booed at the announcement. Play resumed without him, and his teammates patted his shoulder comfortingly before rushing off to the game.  
  
Jongdae complied and yelled with pain as he let go of his ankle and allowed the medics to examine him.  
  
“It doesn’t look good,” one muttered to the other after they lightly examined his foot.  
  
“Let’s move you onto here,” another medic said, prompting Jongdae to slowly shift his weight onto the offered stretcher before the medics lifted him up.  
  
He was glad he could compose himself enough so the pain and devastation didn’t completely show on his face, but it still felt so fucking bad to get carried off the pitch right there while the world watched him fall.  
  


 

ϟ

  
  
Bayern lost the Champions League final.  
  
A quick last minute goal by Messi ensured that Bayern went back home to Munich as the team of losers, the team who almost won, the team who almost grabbed the trophy but let it fall through their grasp.  
  
And Jongdae?  
  
Jongdae would spend the summer in physical therapy and recovery in order to heal his fractured ankle, courtesy of Suarez’s nasty tackle, with no one but his injured teammates and occasionally Baekhyun who checked in on him for company.  
  
“When can I come back and play?” Jongdae asked after he received the diagnosis, trying not to sound disheartened.  
  
“If you’re lucky…your ankle will heal in six weeks,” his athletic trainer said.  
  
“Great. So I can be on the pitch for summer friendlies, right?” Jongdae nodded optimistically.  
  
“But,” his athletic trainer said, causing Jongdae’s heart to fall to his stomach, “It will take longer for your tendons and ligaments to heal, and especially since you’re an athlete, it’ll be several good months before you can play like you used to. If you’re lucky, you’ll be fit and ready for the Bundesliga start next season.”  
  
“Oh,” Jongdae quietly said, “So I’ll have to miss the whole summer season?”  
  
“Unfortunately,” his medic said, “But we’ll have you back in no time, hopefully. Just stay strong, and you’ll be playing again before you know it.”  
  
“I will,” Jongdae said, tilting his chin slightly up.  
  
It was of course devastating for any player to become injured, but he’d work harder to come back fully fit. This was just a little setback…It was nothing he couldn’t handle.  
  
But as if to make things worse, after Sehun had called Jongdae to send his concerned condolences and sweet support on his fractured ankle, Jongdae had asked how Sehun was doing, only to unfortunately find out that everything was not _alright_.  
  
Sehun had hesitated…didn’t want to tell him about his own problems since Jongdae was preoccupied with his own, but Jongdae insisted and asked until Sehun snapped and breathlessly answered with a stream of words.  
  
“You know…those experiences you’re shoved into where most people look back upon and say like…’Yeah that was hard, but at least I learned and grew from it’? You know those experiences?” Sehun all but choked out, and the desperation and panic that his words were laced with caused Jongdae to compose himself, forget his own problems, and listen.  
  
“Well…I don’t fucking care what type of enlightened moral lesson I can learn from this experience when I come back,” Sehun shakily said, “Because it’s hell. It’s actual _hell_ , Jongdae…and it’s awful here. Journalism in the Premier League is so hard…so hard…and my bosses here have been signing me up for countless sports radio shows and live commentary, and I have to _talk_ so much, Jongdae. I want to go _home_.”  
  
If Jongdae could have, he would’ve flown all the way to England right now, would’ve booked himself a last minute flight and headed for the airport without looking back…because Sehun sounded so distraught that Jongdae felt even more helpless in the midst of everything occurring.  
  
But as much as Jongdae would have loved and welcomed Sehun’s return home, he knew he had to be supportive.  
  
“Sehun,” Jongdae soothingly said, “I’m sorry everything’s been so hard for you. But you said you wouldn’t come home until you were the best there, too. And while you can come home any time and you’ll still be the best, I believe in you. You’re so brave for putting yourself through this, and I’m here with you.”  
  
Thousands of miles away, but still here…  
  
Here.  
  
“Jongdae,” Sehun said, his voice shaking through the call, “I’m so _overwhelmed_. I have to talk as a commentator with other panelists tomorrow, and all we have is a topic to discuss for two whole hours. _Two. Hours._ ”  
  
“Practice with me then,” Jongdae said, trying to sound as comforting as possible even though it was hard to do with just his voice, “What’s the topic?”  
  
“But talking is so easy with you. Everything is easier with you,” Sehun said, “I can’t—“  
  
“Hey. Chin up. You’re the best. You’ve got this,” Jongdae reassuringly said before Sehun whispered how thankful he was for Jongdae and how badly he wished he could see him in person.  
  
And when he finally hung up after spending the next hour practicing with Sehun and calming him down, Jongdae finally let himself break down as he cried alone on his couch…cried for his scared Sehun, cried for his paused career, cried for all the times he could not and would not play this summer, and cried for himself.  
  
He was dying to play, but he couldn’t even fucking walk. He knew he could have been out there scoring goals with his team by his side and speeding past players, but this _injury_.  
  
It was such a shame his body couldn’t keep up with what he so badly wanted to do.  
  
And as an injured player, Jongdae could only watch as he missed out on Bayern’s summer friendlies and three very important international games.  
  
South Korea was dancing between the lines of second and third place after a few losses, and Jongdae painfully watched them sink to fourth as they lost to Iran at home, feeling powerless as the defeated faces of his teammates were displayed on his TV at home.  
  
Jongin, who was linked to a summer move to Chelsea, played in Jongdae’s position in his absence, and while he scored enough goals to keep South Korea’s chances alive, Jongdae bitterly knew that if he was there able to play, South Korea wouldn’t be struggling this much.  
  
But even though he was injured, Jongdae couldn’t stay away from the games, his club, the sport at all, so he often dragged himself on crutches to watch Bayern’s summer friendlies.  
  
Journalists and media attention still flocked to him even when he wanted to keep a low profile at these games, and they always asked him how his injury was and when he was going to come back.  
  
“I’ll come back stronger,” Jongdae smiled at the cameras that surrounded him, “I’m working hard to come back, and I’m hopeful you’ll see me again in the fall.”  
  
But when he visited the medics and athletic trainers in charge of his recovery, that was a different story.  
  
“Jongdae, you have to take care and take this recovery slowly. Don’t rush your comeback. Don’t try to run before you can even walk for a long period of time. If you do anything like start playing earlier than normal and not resting your ankle, the risk of re-injury is high. I know you want to get back out there, but just take it slow and easy and heal properly before coming back,” his doctor said after one session.  
  
Jongdae was glad he could stand for short periods of time now, but he still felt so bad because he just wanted to _run._  
  
But how could he, when he couldn’t even walk?  
  
Perhaps one of the worst implications of this injury, though was…how was he supposed to earn his contract renewal now?  
  
Jongdae watched as his teammates began to extend their pre-existing contracts with Bayern, watched as Ancelotti declared he would love to coach Bayern as long as he was able, watched as even Baekhyun officially signed with Bayern not with a loan, but a real contract.  
  
What about him?  
  
Did he have any chance left at a real contract?  
  
Or after his one-year loan was done…would they send him back because of his injury?  
  
But the stormy clouds of doubt had parted to give way to a ray of dazzling hope on the day of his press conference and presentation.  
  
“We do not give up on our players. They are like family to us, and we do not abandon them…especially in hard times,” Karl-Heinz Rummenigge said at a press conference in front of a familiar sea of clicking cameras, “We will wait for Jongdae to be fit again, and we know he will continue to do great things here when he returns. And until then, we officially welcome him with a new contract. No longer will he play just on loan, but as an official Bayern player.”  
  
This was everything Jongdae wanted and what he definitely earned this season, but could he keep up with their expectations if he couldn’t come back in time for the season to start? Would the club really wait that long for him to come back?  
  
But doubt was erased from his mind as a reporter asked him a question.  
  
“Why do you think you’ll be able to come back as fit and as good as before? Bayern seem to have placed their trust and hopes in you,” one journalist asked.  
  
“Because I’m Kim Jongdae,” Jongdae said, and while his words didn’t have the usual charismatic confidence, he still meant them.  
  
He was just going through a rough patch…that was all.  
  
He’d be back.  
  
This newly signed contract was just the encouragement he needed to keep on fighting and to stay positive.  
  
And when he went home, he tried calling Sehun to excitedly tell him only for his calls to end unanswered, so he simply left a voice message wishing him well and telling him that he’d finally renewed his contract. Twenty minutes later he received a text message in reply.  
  
_Can’t talk right now, but I’m so proud of you. Congratulations._  
  
Jongdae gripped his phone in his hands the rest of the night as he sat on the couch and flipped through channels until he found Sehun’s interviews and onscreen commentary that he had been working on in England.  
  
Sehun looked composed, but Jongdae knew he must have been so nervous…and even though Jongdae didn’t understand much English, he sat on the couch and texted him back before watching Sehun shine for the rest of the night.  
  
_I’m proud of you, too._

 

ϟ

  
  
With the inspiration and incentive of his signed contract, Jongdae worked even harder to come back so he could show everyone that it was not a mistake to trust and wait for him.  
  
Sure enough, when he was first able to do some light jogging, he had been overjoyed.  
  
“Don’t over do it,” his athletic trainer warned, “This is just a start…a good start, but if you do anything wrong, then it could set back your return by months.”  
  
“Don’t worry…I’ll be fine,” Jongdae beamed, feeling more pleased with everything and himself than he had felt in such a long time.  
  
It was such a simple thing to be doing…running.  
  
But to Jongdae after so many months restrained to crutches, it felt like the greatest thing in the world.  
  
When he finally could come back to training sessions at Säbener Straße even though it was just for some jogging, minimum shooting, and just a few training drills around the field again, he felt so alive. After jogging around the pitch, Jongdae practiced his penalty kicks. But after lining up the balls to practice shooting into the goal, he took a slight pause to look up at the clouds and admire the way their slowly drifting forms lightly covered up the sun.  
  
One day he’d touch them again.  
  
“Jongdae, what the _fuck_ are you looking all the way up there for? The goal is there right in front of you,” someone bellowed.  
  
Jongdae glanced at the clouds one last time before tearing his eyes away from the horizon to shoot in a penalty kick. He proudly smiled to himself when it easily hit the back of the net.  
  
He was even prouder when he finally made his official return on an early fall game.  
  
Naturally, he was able to score effortlessly after being substituted. With a grin as he listened to the crowd scream his name in approval, Jongdae jumped into the air.  
  
He was back.  
  
Or…at least he thought he was.  
  
To be honest, Jongdae’s playing was suffering a little. He missed more shots than he made, and his passing had become sloppy and inaccurate. He blamed it on his injuries and his time off, but really….who could he blame but himself when he missed all the shots one time during training?  
  
“Do you want to switch, Jongdae?” Manuel Neuer disbelievingly called from his goalposts, “You can save my shots and I can shoot them in if you’re having one of those days.”  
  
But it wasn’t just _one_ of those days.   
  
It was consecutive days all in a row, and Jongdae began to realize with a sinking feeling that his playing had suffered and degenerated during the time he had been off.  
  
Lately during games, he was scared to play and get through the whole match, as he was afraid of getting injured again and revealing his newly found vulnerabilities.  
  
A whole football game had never felt this long to Jongdae.  
  
And especially when he played a friendly game with South Korea’s football team, although he was in the starting line up, somehow he ran as if he was treading on broken glass, as if his ankle could snap any second, and as if he was older but less experienced.  
  
Jongdae tried to shoot a goal into the post, but it was deflected…though Jongin easily caught the deflection and headed it in. He could only stare as he watched Jongin celebrate what should have been _his_ goal. Now this…What could he do when people were better than him at the things he thought he was good at? One of the only things he was good at?  
  
Perhaps there was always going to be someone newer, someone better, and someone younger to replace him.  
  
That was the danger of this sport after all.  
  
As journalists flocked to Jongin with their cameras and microphones after the game as Jongdae trudged alone to the showers, the victory felt more bitter than sweet.

 

 

ϟ

  
  
Jongdae tried to return back into form by practicing football alone like how he practiced when he was younger.  
  
At night, the football fields around his area were luckily empty, so Jongdae relished in the solitude and focused on himself as he practiced finessing his skills. But even after countless hours practicing, Jongdae was unable to be satisfied with any of the shots he made, any of the skills he practiced, so eventually he just lied down on the pitch and stared at the sparse clouds above him.  
  
Today, they had never felt so out of reach.  
  
It was hard to come to terms with the fact that he could be replaced at any moment. Sure he had his dream contract signed, but Jongdae could just be sitting on the bench for the rest of his time at Bayern. That was if he was lucky.  
  
This…this hurt the most. Not the thought of Jongin replacing him, not the thought of sitting on the Bayern bench for the rest of his time here, but _this_ …The realization that there was a chance he wasn’t as good as he used to be?  _This_ hurt the most.  
  
It was hard to come to terms with feeling inadequate, though, because Jongdae still scored. It wasn’t as if he had completely stopped scoring.  
  
But he was just disappointed since he knew he could do so much _better_ while other people were doing better than him, too.  
  
And in a game to determine whether or not South Korea would advance to the FIFA World Cup, Jongdae was struggling once again.  
  
His passes were sloppy, and for some reason the opposition kept marking him on the other team and trying to tackle him every time he held possession of the ball, so Jongdae was so cautious and worried that he might get injured again.  
  
It would not happen, it would not happen, it would not happen…He _just_ recovered. There was no way he’d go back to the sidelines now. But the team he faced was rough…ruthless…and it was clear they wanted to win just as much as South Korea. After all, playing in the World Cup was an honor and an irreplaceable career experience, and Jongdae was not going to miss out on it.  
  
But the first half passed with one goal conceded to the other team, a reckless mistake that their defense had not managed to stop.  
  
0-1  
  
In the second half, things had to change. Jongdae had to score. Players had to be substituted out.  
  
Jongdae glanced over at Jongin at the touchline waiting to be substituted in, his eyes shining bright with an eager greed to play as he restlessly bounced on the pitch.  
  
Oh God.  
  
Was he like that when he was younger?  
  
When was the last time he looked like that…so eager to play as if nothing was wrong, as if he was untouchable…unbreakable?  
  
Jongdae then watched as Jongin scored the answer to the other team’s goal, celebrating loudly, jubilantly, and he went over to pat him on the back before questioning himself.  
  
He _would_ score another goal.  
  
He _would_.  
  
And he did.  
  
It was by no means his prettiest or most amazing goal, but he did it.  
  
He was quick enough to catch deflection off of Lee Chungyong’s blocked shot on his chest and let it roll down to his feet before sending it in powerfully.  
  
2-1  
  
With the rest of the game dwindling down, Jongdae pulled back, hoping it was enough to ensure them a win. But with three minutes left on the clock, after Jongdae suffered a hard tackle, he laid on the pitch in shock.  
  
“Get up! Jongdae, you have to get up!” Jongin pleaded, pulling on Jongdae’s hand to help him to get up now.  
  
Jongdae numbly nodded and roughly wiped at his face so any tears he felt flooding would not fall before taking Jongin’s outreached hand and stood up. He didn’t have any time to cry, but this was the first time in a while he took a fall so hardly.  
  
“Don’t worry! There’s still time left! I’ll score one more for you so we can definitely play together at the World Cup,” Jongin grinned as he comfortingly squeezed Jongdae’s shoulders.  
  
All Jongdae could do was weakly smile. He sounded like that too when he was younger, when he was better, when he was bolder, too.  
  
There was a certain magic to young, talented players. If they believed they could score, then they would, no matter how much time was left, no matter how many defenders were in their way.  
  
Younger Jongdae could have easily scored two goals now if he wanted.  
  
Jongin scored only one, but that was enough to unquestionably win the game as the three minutes of extra time dwindled down.  
  
3-1  
  
And so South Korea was through to the FIFA World Cup, a legendary tournament Jongdae only dreamt of playing in years before that would take place in less than one year’s time.  
  
This time left would have to be enough for Jongdae to improve his skills so he could play up to his standards again like before.  
  
So of course…  
  
Of course he spent more overcast days on the field alone trying to do what he thought he did best.  
  
Play.  
  
Score.  
  
Win.  
  
But Jongdae couldn’t even win against himself, as everything he did seemed lacking and inadequate. Goals remained unscored, porch lights remained off, and games remained half-played if played at all.   
  
The Bundesliga season didn’t start that well for him either.  
  
He was substituted off most games during the second half, and the goals he did score were lifeless. Uninspired.  
  
It was hard to be an athlete sometimes, especially as he was going through such a horrific slump like this one. No one missed anything he did wrong, as cameras and spectators watching him saw every shot he missed, every pass he fumbled upon, and every time he was forcibly substituted off the pitch. Jongdae could only hang his head in defeat when such games couldn’t go his way.  
  
And this season, Bayern drew a strong group of teams to play in the Champions League group stages.  
  
The first Champions League game they played against Arsenal was exhausting for everyone, but at least it ended in a 2-1 win for Bayern. Lewandowski bemoaned the last shot he made before the final whistle blew, If only it had made it into the net, he would’ve scored three goals that game.  
  
And Jongdae?  
  
Jongdae was just glad he made it through the game uninjured and with a single assist. No goals for him today. There had been no goals for him recently, too.  
  
The second Champions League game against Atlético Madrid, however, was a nightmare. It was an away game, so Bayern were away from most of their home supporters, their home stadium, and the foreign chants and flags Jongdae didn’t recognize terrified him for a moment. Atlético Madrid’s fans were ruthless, as after Boateng escaped with a yellow card instead of a red after a hard tackle he attempted, they booed and jeeringly whistled every time a Bayern player even touched the ball.  
  
Atlético Madrid’s offense, too, was deadly, as Antoine Griezmann, a young player who played in such a manner that reminded Jongdae of Luhan’s own playing, was quick to take advantage of any slow passes or midfield mishaps in order to strike four times. Luckily Manuel Neuer had been able to save every shot, but if the game continued the way it was going now, Bayern would easily be the losers today.  
  
After a heated pep talk from Ancelotti at half time, Bayern switched tactics and reenergized themselves as they tried to increase the intensity of their playing. Holding most of the possession did not matter as long as they were efficient in their playing, and Bayern looked threatening at last as Philipp Lahm sent a well-placed pass to Jongdae, who immediately took off down the pitch, looking at any openings to pass to until—  
  
“Jongdae….are you okay?” someone asked him.  
  
But Jongdae’s eyes were shut, so he could only listen as the concerned whispers, the shrill whistles, and the deafening chaos of screams echoed around him after he fell to the pitch clutching his ankle once again after a hard tackle.  
  
“Call the medic,” someone said.  
  
Soon, hands were placed on Jongdae’s shoulder to comfortingly reassure him that it would be okay, it would be okay, it would be _okay_.  
  
Jongdae knew these hands touching him were not the hands he wanted the most…but since his eyes were closed anyways, he could pretend and focus on that illusion to distract himself from the pain.  
  
“Jongdae, can you remove your hand?” the medic’s voice said, causing Jongdae to slightly open his eyes and curl up his hands away from his ankle.  
  
Jongdae let them examine his ankle as he prayed it would not be a major injury…please, please, _please_ not again…But as two of them offered their hands to support him back as he hopped on one foot, he knew.  
  
He knew.  
  
But everyone was watching, so he kept his poise and did not allow himself to cry.  
  
Just yet.  
  
So as the medics helped him off the pitch, he gazed at the clouds instead with his chin up and watched as they blurred right before him.  


 

ϟ

  
  
“Of course it’s disappointing to get injured again after I just came back from another injury,” Jongdae said into the microphone at another Bayern press conference.  
  
He tried to smile as people were taking pictures, but it came off more like a grimace, so he just dropped it and maintained a serious expression.  
  
“We firmly believe that Jongdae will come back just like he did last time…fully fit and fully ready to play again. It’s unfortunate that he has been injured, but we are not worried. He will come back, and in the meantime, we are not at all lacking in attacking talent, so we are not pressed,” Ancelotti said next to him.  
  
Right.  
  
Another reminder that Bayern wouldn’t need him.  
  
They had countless other players…amazing players to choose from, and Jongdae would lose his spot if he came back even worse than before.  
  
“How do you think you will be able to make starting lineup when you come back? Will you get any surgeries or let it progress naturally?” one reporter asked.  
  
“I’ll do whatever it takes to come back, and I’ll come back stronger than before. This isn’t a major setback. You’ll see me again,” Jongdae firmly said.  
  
He would be back.  
  
Because he was Kim Jongdae.  
  
But whether he would be back as a legend, an inspiringly good player, or just a player on the bench, well…that was another thing to be seen.  
  
He was strong for the camera right now as he held his gaze steadily, but when he returned home?  
  
Off camera in the solitude of his own company?  
  
He was a wreck.  
  
Jongdae couldn’t sleep that much, and he screamed in frustration every time his crutches were out of his grasp because he couldn’t even _walk_ without them, fuck.  
  
His nights were spent not outside dribbling balls or climbing walls now, but confined to the couch watching sports channels…as if it wasn’t a bigger blow to him when he saw match recaps and players fit, scoring goals, and doing all the things he wanted to do but could _not_.  
  
Soon after a late night recap of Bayern’s latest game that he missed came on, commentators began discussing Bayern’s individual team members.  
  
Some talked about how Müller and Lewandowski might be projected to break their own previous records set if they kept performing like this, how Manuel Neuer’s record streak of clean sheets was legendary, how it was a shame Philipp Lahm retired from international duty already because he was still in such good form and condition.  
  
They also talked about Baekhyun…  
  
Baekhyun who wasn’t doing that well either.  
  
The commentators questioned his contract renewal, too, and Jongdae felt awful for him and hoped Baekhyun wasn’t watching this.  
  
“Maybe he’s only good when he plays with Kim Jongdae. He has a keen talent of reading Jongdae so well that he can know where to send the balls and predict how he’s going to play before it happens,” one commentator said.  
  
“Right. Most of his astounding assists last season have been assists to Jongdae,” another commentator nodded as a graph of Baekhyun’s statistics appeared on the screen.  
  
“So, naturally…with Jongdae off the pitch and out with another injury, it seems as if Baekhyun’s effectiveness and usefulness is gone, too,” the first commentator said.  
  
“Let’s talk about Jongdae now…” the other commentator said, “Wow has he had some tough luck with his injuries.”  
  
“He’s had an astounding first season with Bayern even though he was just only under loan, and everyone had high expectations for him until he was out for the rest of the season and the summer with that ankle fracture,” the first commentator said.  
  
“His comeback after that…wasn’t the best, but it’s understandable given his injury situation and how long he was out. But now after getting injured again? Can he come back? Will he come back as strong as he used to be?” the other commentator asked.  
  
Then a montage of Jongdae’s best moments and interviews came on the screen, and Jongdae felt himself freeze, feeling absolutely devastated when he saw his past glories, his past goals, his past confident, smiling self stunning the crowd with his fantastic goals and playing.  
  
“Can you take South Korea to the World Cup and Bayern to the finals of every major competition you’re playing in?” one reporter asked him in an interview that felt like an eternity ago.  
  
“Yes. Of _course_. Because I’m Kim Jongdae,” his past self smirked at the camera with a nod.  
  
Jongdae turned off the TV, feeling an overwhelming sense of crushing loss creep up and settle in his whole self.  
  
“Because I’m Kim Jongdae,” he hoarsely echoed, the words sounding hollow in his throat.  
  
And that was when he lost it and gave in to his shaking shoulders and blurring eyes as he lowered his head into his hands to cry.  


 

ϟ

  
  
Perhaps it was a mistake to keep watching TV when he had no rehab schedules or doctor’s appointments and when he was prepared to suffer through winter break alone and injured. Jongdae could walk and jog lightly and was expected to return to training after winter break, but that didn’t make the somber solitude any easier.  
  
Perhaps it was a mistake to keep watching old Bayern games and compare his past to his current, inferior, suffering self.Perhaps it was a mistake to watch old Bayern ads and team videos where their players would proudly display their jersey and crests for everyone to see. But Jongdae could not stop surrounding himself with what he missed and could not stay away from this club even if it hurt to keep watching.  
  
“Mia san Mia,” his teammates rowdily chanted from his screen, “We are who we _are_.”  
  
Jongdae was who he was…in the past he was bold, arrogant, the best of the best.  
  
But today he was breakable, beaten, and bereaved.  
  
He should have learned to stay away from articles written about him, too…Even the headlines mocked him with cruel, harsh words…perhaps truthful words?  
  


 

DID BAYERN SIGN KIM JONGDAE TOO SOON?

  


 

INJURY PLAGUED KIM JONGDAE A BURDEN FOR BAYERN

  


 

SHOULD BAYERN SELL BACK INJURED KIM JONGDAE?

  
  
Wow.  
  
He really was a shadow of his own self. Before during his first injury, he was ready to fight for his comeback and force his body to be properly healed so he could play once again. What could he do now if both his body and ability to play well were suffering?  
  
But Ollie meowed, interrupting Jongdae’s pitiful thoughts as he scratched at the screen door.  
  
“It’s late…you can go out tomorrow,” Jongdae tiredly said.  
  
Ollie hissed and continually batted at the screen door.  
  
“What? You want to go over there?” Jongdae asked.  
  
Ollie meowed.  
  
“I know…I miss him, too, but you can’t go there right now,” Jongdae shook his head.  
  
Ollie meowed again before lightly batting the screen door once more.  
  
“What is it?” Jongdae asked before drawing his attention away from his cat and looked up…  
  
Looked on up to see a bright porch light shining from over the wall.  
  


 

ϟ

  
  
Jongdae wanted to immediately run over and climb the wall, but he hesitated. It had been so long…so long…Would he want to see Jongdae right now?  
  
A knock interrupted his thoughts.  
  
“Who is it?” Jongdae asked, wondering who it could be at this hour.  
  
There was a silent pause before the person on the other side of the door spoke.  
  
“It’s me. Sehun.”  
  
_Oh._  
  
Jongdae didn’t wait any longer and flung open the door to see Sehun standing under the light of Jongdae’s front door, his hair not as neatly kept as Jongdae was used to seeing, as it was tousled and unstyled, the strong features of his face unrestrained with no glasses to frame it, and he looked tired…so tired of whatever he had been doing.  
  
There were no _I missed you_ or _I’m glad you’re back_ uttered from Jongdae’s mouth, but from the way Jongdae scrambled over to immediately leap into Sehun’s arms to hug him as quickly and tightly as he could, Sehun felt it anyways…felt the sentiments that were left unspoken.  
  
When they sat on Jongdae’s couch together, they didn’t talk about what had happened.  
  
Or at least Jongdae didn’t at first.  
  
Sehun, on the other hand, did.  
  
“I’m sorry I left abruptly for so long,” Sehun said, “Things were getting so bad back then, and I…I didn’t want to ruin both of our careers.”  
  
“I understand. I know,” Jongdae sighed before he finally said it, “But I missed you. I _missed_ you, Sehun.”  
  
There was a certain relief Jongdae felt when he translated his sentiments into words. It felt…good to be definite and to say what he meant and not have anyone guess.  
  
“I missed you, too. England was hell, Jongdae,” Sehun shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment as he recalled those memories, “Reporting the Premier League…was the toughest thing I’ve ever done.”  
  
“It’s because you didn’t get to see Bayern and me play live, right?” Jongdae teased, but grew somber, “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”  
  
“Jongdae, if you want a report or an interview or anything at all there, you have to fight your way through thousands of reporters…paparazzi…and sometimes beg them for interviews. You have to be such a good talker there, and I…I never want to conduct another live interview again.”  
  
“I know. I’m sure you did your best, though. I’m proud of you for trying something that you’re not comfortable with,” Jongdae said, letting his head rest on Sehun’s shoulders.  
  
He missed this…  
  
Missed close contact with Sehun like this.  
  
He just missed Sehun.  
  
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you when you got injured, too,” Sehun said, “But I’m back now. And I’m ready to see your magnificent comeback with my own eyes and report it like I’ll see it. A phoenix rising from the flames to burn the rest of the league.”  
  
“I don’t know if I can do it,” Jongdae said quietly, “I’ve had a rough start to the season.”  
  
“That’s new,” Sehun thoughtfully said, surprised by Jongdae’s words, “When have you ever doubted yourself like that?”  
  
“When I got injured twice in a year, when I’ve had so many bad games, when I see younger players playing far better than I play now, when so many of my shots just barely miss the goal,” Jongdae weakly said, “It’s hard…to keep picking yourself back up again when you fall. It’s really hard.”  
  
“Okay. So let me believe in you now until you can believe in yourself again,” Sehun nodded, “I believe in you, Bayern’s number thirty-three, Kim Jongdae…with the best right shot I’ve seen…who can best two defenders and easily skip past them to score stunning goals.”  
  
“That was so long ago,” Jongdae sighed, “That was when I was twenty-four. Now I’m older. Less fit. Less talented.”  
  
“Yeah, now you’re older. Yeah, you’ve been having injury problems. But that doesn’t mean you’re any less talented or less able or less phenomenal.”  
  
“But when I remember my past…How could I have strayed so far from what I’ve been able to do back then?” Jongdae asked.  
  
“So don’t look back,” Sehun shook his head, “The past is done. Look forwards, look towards the future, look to better days ahead and work towards all the beautiful things to come. Keep running towards the goal and don’t look back until you score.”  
  
“Look on up,” Jongdae said, “I’m going to look up to the clouds instead. They can mean _anything_. So anything can happen in the future.”  
  
“Exactly,” Sehun nodded.  
  
Jongdae sighed again, but felt better. It was nice to have someone else believe in him when it was hard to even think pleasant thoughts about himself.  
  
“Can you read to me? I’m so tired, and I missed hearing your voice in person. Phone calls don’t do it justice,” Jongdae said, and while his head was still resting on Sehun’s neck, he now swung his arm over Sehun’s chest.  
  
“I’m…not working on the happiest of reports right now. Lots of other players are having injury problems. Are you sure you want me to read you them?” Sehun said, pulling out his phone slowly from his pocket so he wouldn’t disturb Jongdae, who was still nestled closely and snuggled on his chest.  
  
“Just talk. I don’t want to know what you’re saying, so just talk to me in a different language. One I don’t know at all,” Jongdae said.  
  
“Alright,” Sehun said, and began translating his article out loud to Spanish for Jongdae.  
  
Jongdae contentedly listened to Sehun’s voice as he felt his eyes droop and as the calm tone of Sehun’s voice lulled him into a serene state of sleepiness.  
  
“It’s getting late,” Sehun said, pulling Jongdae from the edges of sleep in what seemed like eternities and eons later.  
  
“Stay,” Jongdae murmured out loud. But he didn’t have to because Sehun made no move of leaving anyways.  
  
So Sehun kept reading…this time in French.  
  
If Jongdae were more awake, maybe he would have caught Sehun’s whispers of not actually football related sentences and words, but something else.   
  
Something sweeter.  


 

ϟ

  
  
Jongdae was dreading coming back to practice after winter break ended.  
  
He dreaded playing a full game and accidentally getting injured again.  
  
“What if I’ll never be fully fit or ever back to my best again,” Jongdae said, panicking slightly as Sehun drove him to Säbener Straße.  
  
“Don’t worry…You’ll be fine. Show them what they missed while you were gone,” Sehun said.  
  
“Sehun, my body’s betrayed me so many times. What if I’m just not as good as I used to be? I’ve been out of it so long,” Jongdae said, and unfortunately Sehun could not say anything back as he had to take an incoming work call.  
  
But for all Jongdae worried, his return to practice had been quiet. Good enough.  
  
He was doing okay…his injury hadn’t troubled him or relapsed, but he was still hesitant to run faster and play harder.  
  
But unfortunately for Jongdae, his comeback games did not go as smoothly as he would have liked or hoped.  
  
Fearing Jongdae’s injury concerns and lack of form, Ancelotti preferred to keep Jongdae on the bench and substitute him in towards the second halves of games.  
  
Jongdae was grateful he could play and he was grateful he was slowly on his way back to full fitness, but he missed playing a full game, and he wished he could play longer than just twenty or thirty minutes during games. Or sometimes even less.  
  
Journalists began noticing Jongdae’s shift from starting player to meager substitute, and Jongdae gritted his teeth every time he walked past a football magazine in the market or scrolled past an article about himself because they were all the same…all doubting and degrading.  


 

IS KIM JONGDAE ONLY GOOD AS A SUBSTITUTE?

  


 

SHOULD INJURY-PLAGUED KIM JONGDAE BE DEMOTED TO BAYERN’S RESERVE SECOND TEAM?

  


 

BAYERN IN NO TROUBLE AFTER EASILY REPLACING STRUGGLING MIDFIELDER KIM JONGDAE.

  
  
But as Jongdae escaped the disappointment of playing at Bayern when he flew abroad to play with his South Korean football team, things were no different.  
  
Perhaps even worse.  
  
“The bench?” Jongdae said disappointedly.  
  
Again?  
  
“You’ve been out a long time. And you have injury concerns, Jongdae…If things are going in our favor maybe I’ll substitute you in towards the end,” his coach nodded.  
  
Very few players could be considered irreplaceable, and Jongdae was sure in his state and condition, he was most definitely replaceable.  
  
So now the question was…who was replacing him.  
  
Jongdae wasn’t surprised to see it was Jongin. Jongin who eagerly bounced on his toes as the team lined up while Jongdae enviously watched him from the bench. Jongdae wanted to hate him. He wanted to hate the person who took his place on the team, who played better than him now, who his coach seemed to prefer.  
  
But he could not.  
  
Because Jongin was sweet, had texted him concernedly after he heard Jongdae was injured, had made a point of seeking him out and hugging him in greeting when Bayern played Chelsea, and had always looked up to him with awe-struck eyes.  
  
So he just sulked bitterly on the bench while Baekhyun who was seated next to him comforted him.  
  
“You’re coming off an injury…you’ll be back soon,” Baekhyun rubbed his back.  
  
“I want to be back _now_ ,” Jongdae frustratedly said, “I want to play _now_ and be the best _now_.”  
  
“Well, when you find out how to do that, let me know, too,” Baekhyun humorlessly laughed, causing Jongdae to remember that throughout all of this…Baekhyun had sat on the bench longer than Jongdae had.  
  
His coach had called the two of them later to warm up, so Jongdae was hopeful that he might be substituted into the game. But when it was Baekhyun who was called first, Jongdae didn’t mind as much and simply wished him luck before he ran off with a smile on his face to be substituted.  
  
Jongdae watched the clock as he was doing stretches on the line.  
  
Twenty minutes left.  
  
They were doing well…had one goal scored.  
  
Ten minutes left.  
  
Would he be subbed in soon?  
  
Seven minutes left –  
  
“Jongdae, you’re in,” his coach called, pointing for Jongdae to get in there as soon as he possibly could.  
  
So he looked up and excitedly ran towards the line, screaming at Ji Dongwon to hurry up and tap him in. It had been so long since he felt this eager to play. He did play well for a couple of minutes at least…to his own standards. But he was worried…worried what might happen to him, as the end stages of a football game were always frantic. So naturally, more fouls and desperate tackles were attempted as well.  
  
True enough to his worry, Jongdae was knocked down once by a hard tackle that the referee missed and lay stunned on the grass as he tried to make sure he was not injured again.  
  
“Get up! Jongdae, there’s still time! Let’s go!” Jongin frantically said, offering his hand out to Jongdae.  
  
Jongdae pulled himself up using Jongin’s hand. It was harder and harder to get up on his own, and he was grateful Jongin had helped him up.  
  
The game dragged onto extra time, and after playing two full halves, Jongdae was _exhausted_. He didn’t want to prove all those newspaper headlines and critics right, so he pressed onwards, trying his best to create chances to score.  
  
He could do this…  
  
He could prove them all wrong.  
  
At least he thought he could.  
  
Because after suffering another hard, misplaced tackle, Jongdae found himself clutching his ankle and letting out a frustrated scream, stunning the pitch into silence for a moment.  
  
“Jongdae, are you okay?” Baekhyun concernedly asked as he fell to his knees to check on him.  
  
“Medic, please,” Jongin yelled out before bending down next to Jongdae.  
  
This time, Jongdae didn’t get up.  
  
This time, Jongdae let his head hang low when the medics came and shook their head at his ankle.  
  
This time, Jongdae didn’t bother to hide his tears as the medical team carried him off the pitch.  
  


 

ϟ

  
  
Jongdae was lucky to get by with a minor ankle sprain.  
  
He’d still miss play for most of the month, but _still_.  
  
“Do you have anyone to help you back to the hotel?” the medic asked.  
  
“Yeah,” Jongdae nodded.  
  
He was sure Baekhyun and even Jongin were waiting for him somewhere outside, but he could not…did not want to look at their pity-filled faces now.  
  
Even though it was honestly better for him to go back with someone by car or taxi, Jongdae was still hurt, in a terrible place right now, so of course he decided today would be a good day to use public transportation to disappear into a crowd of anonymous people.  
  
Halfway through the commute, he saw some kids from the game with red jerseys get on and overhear them excitedly talking about football.  
  
“I love Kim, too,” one of them said, and Jongdae managed to smile, thinking the kid referred to him.  
  
“Which one? Kim Jongdae or Kim Jongin?” another one asked, causing the smile to falter from Jongdae’s face.  
  
“Jongin, obviously,” he said.  
  
Jongdae felt defeated…utterly defeated, and just dropped his head down and slouched in his seat and wondered if this was how the rest of his career would be.  
  
He remembered the days where he’d be able to sit with his chin up and say he was the best.  
  
So now…what could he do if he wasn’t the best anymore?  
  
Where could he go from here?  


 

ϟ

  
  
Up in the skies among the clouds, Jongdae flew home by himself since he could no longer continue with any other schedules the South Korean football team had.  
  
He missed having Baekhyun chatter next to him about anything at all, and he especially missed Sehun, so he found himself paying for in-flight internet so he could access Sehun’s articles to read. He felt slightly better as he finished reading through an article, feeling as if Sehun was reading it to him himself…but in the comments section of Sehun’s article, people had left scathingly brutal comments.  
  
_Why is he writing about Dortmund if he clearly only cares about those fuckers from Bayern?  
  
When will he retire…this whole article is a self-drag how does he still have a career  
  
I’m glad he fucked off back to Germany fuck I was sick of seeing his face reporting the Premier League_  
  
Jongdae snapped out of his previous moping and disappointment in himself in order to get fucking _furious_ , and before he could control himself, he began leaving anonymous comments defending Sehun.  
  
It wasn’t much, but it still made Jongdae feel better.  
  
What was most definitely going to make him feel even better, though, was visiting Sehun in person…and so after his plane landed, the first thing he did was head towards that wall, and hobbling on one foot, Jongdae threw his crutches over before trying to climb.  
  
“Whoa…whoa Jongdae wait what are you doing?” Sehun asked when he noticed Jongdae and immediately flung open his back porch door to run outside.  
  
“Trying to _visit_ ,” Jongdae said, debating what would be the best way to land on the ground and save his foot.  
  
“You should know better,” Sehun shook his head, “Don’t do anything else to make your injury worse.”  
  
“Does it matter,” Jongdae dryly chuckled, “I’ll just get injured again…and again…and—“  
  
“Stop…I’ll come over so you don’t have to move,” Sehun said, “just _stay_ on the wall and I’ll help you off.”  
  
Sehun swiftly climbed over the wall with the agility of a man who was most definitely not injured before moving the stool over and offering his hand out to Jongdae. He then caught and supported Jongdae’s weight before helping him over and back to his couch.  
  
“I saw people writing nasty stuff about you in the comments of your article,” Jongdae blurted out, “How can you take it?”  
  
“It’s nothing,” Sehun shrugged, “If I don’t get a rude comment, I’ll actually be more surprised.”  
  
“But how can you take it? Wouldn’t it make you mad? Or even discourage you?” Jongdae asked.  
  
“Well…You tell me, Jongdae,” Sehun said.  
  
“But it’s not true about you. It’s true about _me_. I _am_ a player suffering one of the worst slumps in history. But you’re _not_ a biased, untalented journalist,” Jongdae shook his head.  
  
“Listen, Jongdae,” Sehun said, placing a hand over Jongdae’s to emphasize his point, “You’re better than this. I don’t interview just anyone…And you’re not just anyone.”  
  
“Then what do I do when I’m not the best anymore?” Jongdae asked no one in particular, feeling his eyes suddenly pricked with tears, “I try…I try…and I _try_ …but I just keep getting injured, and at first you know…I thought it was just my body, so when I’ll get fit again, I’ll be fine. I’ll still be amazing. But,  _no_. Fuck, I can’t even remember the last time I kicked a penalty I was proud of.”  
  
“Then so what?” Sehun asked, “What do you do when you fall down while playing? Do you stay on the ground crying about it? Hm?”  
  
“No, unless you’re Suarez and you wanted to dive,” Jongdae shook his head.  
  
“Exactly. And you’re not a diver. You’re Kim Jongdae. So what do you do when you fall on the pitch?” Sehun continued.  
  
“Pick myself up…Raise my chin up…and walk it off,” Jongdae said.  
  
Sehun nodded in response and he didn’t need to say anything more, but there was Jongdae’s answer.  
  
They didn’t spend the rest of the time talking about football…but about other things, and gradually they found themselves nestled together while Jongdae showed Sehun a whimsical song by Schubert.  
  
“Die Forelle.”  
  
This time he didn’t listen to the orchestral version.  
  
Because this time he listened to _this_ version.  
  
With words.  


 

ϟ

  
  
But honestly, as Jongdae had been used to finding out, it was never easy to pick himself up with a smile and unbreakable hope.  
  
Maybe it was easier to pick himself up the first time he got injured, but it was taking every bit of Jongdae’s strength to stop himself from breaking down every time he turned on the TV and watched everyone able to play…and play so well.  
  
It especially didn’t help that he missed the World Cup, the tournament he helped his team qualify for all that time ago. Of course. What luck.  
  
He also missed Sehun since he flew to Russia to report it, but Jongdae spent the summer rebuilding himself, rehabbing his injured body, rediscovering his injured self.  
  
Jongdae went to the doctor’s promptly every time, working out his upper body and his arms when he couldn’t work out his legs because of his ankle. He often watched World Cup games as he lifted weights or did basic training exercises, but the more he watched…the less disappointed he became that he couldn’t join his team on the pitch.  
  
It wasn’t right to compare himself to Thomas, who was in the running for the golden boot winner of the tournament, or Jongin who had already netted in three goals for South Korea, or even his old self who he was sure would have been able to score at least five goals by now.  
  
Because as long as he was happy with what he was doing, as long as he was happy with himself now, as long as he was happy now…then that was enough.  
  
That would be more than enough.  
  
And he was happy.  
  
Jongdae was content with the skills he had been improving on after he spent countless days and nights after finally recovering from his injury practicing and practicing and practicing. A sleek, curved corner kick that he shot perfectly into the goal felt like a major victory. A long jog without any pain in his ankle felt as good as winning a game against Manchester United. And watching as his practiced penalty shots sailed beautifully into the back of the net again and again and again had him feeling as if he was floating and flying among the clouds themselves.  
  
It began to matter less and less that he would have scored this many goals or made this many passes when he was younger and fitter. Now, it mattered more that he _could_ play this wonderfully, he _could_ score this accurately, he _could_ run this extensively.  
  
When his teammates came back from the World Cup, having almost successfully defended their title, Jongdae welcomed them back, feeling ready to stand once again with them on the pitch without feeling afraid.  
  
But during the Bundesliga’s restart, Jongdae spent most of the first game on the bench until he was subbed in during the 70th minute as a test.  
  
He was overwhelmed, though, when the Südkurve section of the Allianz Arena raised banners for him to show their unwavering support.  
  
For the rest of the time he was on the pitch, he didn’t score any goals in that game….or the games after that, but he tried hard and assisted several goals.  
  
And that was fine.  
  
Honestly, that was completely fine to Jongdae. He had spent so long doubting himself and coming off of injuries, so even if he didn’t score any goals, he was happy enough when his passes were received well, when his crosses and corner kicks were delivered perfectly, when he could play a whole game without feeling as if his ankle or his body or his spirit would break any second.  
  
The rest of the season floated by like this with Jongdae not perhaps at the glory of his old days, but doing well enough on his own terms.  
  
And in a hard Champions League game, he scored the tiebreaker in the last minute, which sent Bayern off to the semifinals.  
  
Unlike before, he didn’t take a victory run across the pitch screaming in jubilation, but he just stood there and smiled before his teammates ran and hugged him.  
  
Jongdae was growing more and more confident in himself again, and it showed…showed through hard crosses he wouldn’t think twice of attempting, hard runs through a crowd of defenders he didn’t even blink at, and shots he tried to make at the goal even from impossible positions and angles. While he wasn’t his overly cocky and flashy self, his smiles were back full force, he was shining, and it was almost like the sun took itself out of the sky for a while to play football.  
  
He was having fun. It wasn’t daunting or stressful or intimidating to play a whole game anymore, and he was playing football again for what it was.  
  
Love.  
  
Loss.  
  
Life.  
  
And as for Sehun and Jongdae, the two of them spent their time together covertly and did not seek each other out at their official schedules. It wasn’t that much of a difference though, as Sehun had temporarily given up on live reporting and commentary since he had enough of it in the Premier League.  
  
So because the time they now spent together was limited, the time they did have together was spent with just…Jongdae looking at Sehun and realizing he wanted more, he’d always wanted more even if he never said so.  
  
There was his ambition rushing back.  
  
If he wanted more time played on the pitch, then he’d work until he’d get more time on the pitch.  
  
If he wanted more passes completed and wonderfully made, then he’d work until he’d make those passes.  
  
So if he wanted something more with Sehun, he’d work practicing the words in his head until he was ready to say them out loud.  
  
And when he showed Sehun another song he loved, Schubert’s “Lebensstürme,” one day and he gazed at Sehun’s appreciative and awed expression as they listened…today, somehow he was straining to hear the words of the song that didn’t come out…words that were unsaid, unsung. Words that he wanted to fill in and say himself.  
  
So when Bayern won the Bundesliga early again this year and was going to hold their by-now annual party to celebrate, Jongdae didn’t hesitate this time to ask Sehun to come with him.  
  
His teammates could bring people they cared about, so Jongdae wanted to bring Sehun, never mind what anyone else might dare to say.  


 

ϟ

  
  
They showed up separately to the party.  
  
Jongdae would show up first with his teammates, and Sehun arrived later so the press wouldn’t have anything to say if his club was still concerned about this.  
  
When the party began, Jongdae sat around a table while looking around waiting for Sehun to come. Across the room, Thomas Müller had already found the dance floor…and Manuel Neuer had already found the beer.  
  
And –  
  
Oh.  
  
Baekhyun was sauntering towards him wearing a low-cut top and a dangling lip ring hanging from his lower lip.  
  
“Wow, Baekhyun…Who are you trying to win over tonight? It’s just a Bundesliga party,” Jongdae teased, raising his eyebrows as Baekhyun approached him. There was something different in the way Baekhyun looked at him tonight…with half-lidded eyes and a slight upwards curl of his lips that should have been more serious had Thomas Müller not chosen that moment to take the microphone to excitedly sing in the background as he danced.  
  
Jongdae looked at Baekhyun the same….still admiringly, still supportively, still –  
  
But suddenly someone tapped his shoulder, and Jongdae looked behind, looked up, and suddenly was speechless as he just _stared_.  
  
Sehun was always beautiful…always the most beautiful person in the whole world, but tonight, Jongdae was left breathless and unable to say anything in the moment like always as Sehun showed up wearing a nicely tailored, form-fitting suit, and looking so strikingly _stunning_.  
  
Baekhyun took one look at Jongdae’s awestruck gaze and sighed, his piercing dangling gently as he smiled fondly. As long as Jongdae was smiling this brightly, this was fine.  
  
“See you around?” he said before Jongdae reached out to stop him.  
  
“No, stay with us,” Jongdae shook his head before Baekhyun hesitantly took a seat. Sehun looked curiously at him for a moment, but immediately greeted him and complimented him on his lip ring.  
  
The three of them comfortably talked the whole night, Baekhyun and Sehun brought together by a common, shared fondness for Jongdae, and they were occasionally dragged onto the dance floor and occasionally shoved beer into their hands until the party had dwindled down into something a little somber…a break from the havoc as Philipp Lahm stood to make a toast and a speech.  
  
“I don’t know how many of you will stay with us after this season, and I don’t know how many new faces will join us the next,” Philipp Lahm said, gazing at the suddenly sober crowd.  
  
“But I do know…that every year you, my teammates, make it an even bigger pleasure to play for the best club in the world,” he continued as his teammates cheered at the mention of Bayern’s world class status.  
  
“We’ve won the Bundesliga again…So let’s go and win the Champions League this year, okay? Let’s win and take home the treble this year. For ourselves. For the fans. For Bayern,” he smiled before Thomas grabbed the microphone and shoved it towards Manuel Neuer’s red face before they began drunkenly singing their rendition of “Stern des Südens,” one of Bayern’s most beloved anthems.  
  
Jongdae rose to his feet as words fell from his lips as he joined in, singing of life, of love, of loss in the most beautiful and most broken of times. FC Bayern Munich, forever his dream club, forever his home.  
  
After that, the whole room erupted in spirited cheers and yells before someone shoved another glass of beer into Jongdae’s hands.  
  
That would be the first of a couple glasses.  
  
Jongdae had to stay in shape and refrain from alcohol during the season, but he could cut loose a little now, and as he drank more beer, his words slurred more, his fingers roamed more, and his heart braved more.  
  
On the way home it was all he could do to keep his hands off of Sehun since it would absolutely be a safety hazard.  
  
But when they reached Jongdae’s house, however, that was a different story.  
  
“I’ve been waiting to do this all night…especially in the car. It’s a pity you had to drive us home,” Jongdae said, pushing Sehun to the couch before climbing on top of his lap.  
  
“You know, if I was a paparazzi or a journalist of a tabloid…imagine the headlines I could’ve made with that story if you did that…Footballer Kim Jongdae caught in the back seat of a car with a journalist,” Sehun said before his hands found their way to Jongdae’s waist.   
  
“What…and implicate yourself, too?” Jongdae smirked as he leaned closer into Sehun’s face, “You wouldn’t.”  
  
“Okay, then how about I lie then…lie and stretch the truth like they do anyways,” Sehun said, attempting to keep his breathing steady.  
  
“Oh? Do tell how you’d expose me to the news,” Jongdae said.  
  
“Footballer Jongdae…caught in the back seat with his teammate, Byun Baekhyun,” Sehun said, jealousy dancing in his heavy gaze, as if he was testing Jongdae to see what he thought. What he felt.  
  
“That’s ridiculous. At least make the gossip good…dramatic….like I was caught with old Ancelotti or something,” Jongdae laughed as he relished the way Sehun’s hands tightened around his body, “Everyone knows we’re just close friends anyways.”  
  
“Yeah how silly of me,” Sehun said, fighting to stop a massive grin from stretching across his face in that moment.  
  
“But what if that was the truth then? What if we were together like _this_? Would you interview us for the exclusive story?” Jongdae dared to ask, “Would you be jealous?”  
  
Sehun’s face tightened as he thought of Baekhyun kissing Jongdae…of Baekhyun running his hands over Jongdae’s waist while Jongdae straddled his lap and –  
  
Jongdae let out a laugh as he watched Sehun’s troubled face.  
  
“Don’t worry, Sehun. It’s not Baekhyun’s lap I’m sitting on right now anyways,” Jongdae said.  
  
And that’s when a deadly combination of alcohol and a surge of strong feelings kicked in, causing Jongdae to press a hot kiss to Sehun’s jaw.  
  
“Jongdae…you’re drunk,” Sehun managed to breathe.  
  
But he did not remove his hands from Jongdae’s waist.  


 

ϟ

  
  
They didn’t speak about what happened the next morning.  
  
Sehun greeted him as warmly as usual, and they went along with their daily routines just like always.  
  
And it was nice.  
  
It always was.  
  
But lately…on some nights Jongdae spent resting on the couch watching over Sehun as he wrote, he began thinking that things could keep going on like this…forever good, but never more. And it would be his fault since he didn’t say anything.  
  
What if Sehun gave up waiting one year and just let him go?  
  
Then they’d just be this.  
  
Friends.  
  
Being friends was nice, but Jongdae knew he really would have to brave up and speak before it was too late.  
  
_Say it, say it, say it_ Jongdae would think as he would hold Sehun’s hand. But the words were stuck in his throat, so in order to breathe, he just swallowed his words and held Sehun’s hand tighter.  
  
_Say it, say it, say it_ Jongdae would think as Sehun greeted him another day looking so beautiful even dressed in nothing but a simple t-shirt and sweatpants. But the words were stuck in his mouth, so in order to breathe, he just coughed and leaned forward to embrace him.  
  
_Say it, say it, say it_ Jongdae would think as they were cloud gazing one day together and lying so close that Jongdae could kiss him if he turned his neck. But the words were stuck on the tip of his tongue, so in order to breathe, he just bit his tongue and reached out to grasp Sehun’s arm instead.  
  
So maybe…he’d just have to do this.  
  
Act first.  
  
Speak later.  
  
But when?  
  
When else…  
  
When else except for a time the both of them would be present, a time where adrenaline and instinct would finally push Jongdae to act?  
  
A football match.  
  
Because that was a fantastic idea.  
  
Jongdae was currently experiencing a goalless drought, though that was okay. It was taking him longer to get back into perfect form, but he was still enjoying playing, and he didn’t have to score goals to be a good player.  
  
But on the games he did score, though…like one game when he scored a gorgeous goal from a free kick Bayern won?  
  
That game?  
  
Jongdae came to life, feeling a devastating mix of adrenaline, triumph, and relief.  
  
And at that game?  
  
Instead of running jubilantly across the pitch to celebrate, he jogged towards the press section to find Sehun in the journalist stands, looked all the way over directly at him, and without another doubt in his mind, blew a kiss in the air towards Sehun’s direction.  
  
That one would be for now.  
  
_Act first._  
  
Another one would be for later.  
  
_Speak later._  
  
Sehun blinked before solemnly blowing a kiss back. The press and anyone else watching would think Jongdae was blowing a kiss to the crowd and to the cameras, but Sehun understood.  
  
After the game, Jongdae didn’t climb over the wall this time, but showed up properly in front of Sehun’s door. When Sehun opened the door and realized why Jongdae must be here…Jongdae looked at Sehun as if he knew what he was ready to finally say.  
  
But for now it was only silence.  
  
“Sehun,” Jongdae began to say at last, “I know you’ve been waiting for a long time, and thank you for waiting for however long I needed until I was ready to say—“  
  
“Jongdae,” Sehun interrupted.  
  
“No, no…you were right…I need to say this. I know you’ve been patient—“ Jongdae began to say.  
  
“Jongdae,” Sehun interrupted again.  
  
“Sehun,” Jongdae tried again, his head shyly dropping to the floor, unable to meet Sehun’s strong gaze for the first time, “I really…am grateful for all the support you’ve shown me, all the times you’ve believed in me…especially when I couldn’t…and I know we have this beautiful friendship going on that I value so much and wouldn’t want to mess up, but…”  
  
Jongdae never liked words, always choked down on too many words or no words at all, but now they just spilled out of him as he continued tilting his head down while a fierce blush stained his cheeks. Sehun watched amusedly…fondly…so lovingly as Jongdae…smooth, confident Jongdae…tripped over his words. Jongdae really tried. He did. But the words that he said already were sufficient. Enough. More than enough.  
  
No more words were needed.  
  
Just actions now.  
  
“Jongdae,” Sehun said more firmly, and this time Jongdae finally ceased his ramblings, “Chin _up_.”  
  
Sehun gently not so gently tilted Jongdae’s chin up so now they both stood gazing at each other.  
  
_Chin up._  
  
And then finally Jongdae leapt into action and kissed Sehun like this…like the roar of the crowd was pounding in his head after he scored a fantastic goal…like how the final blaring whistle had sounded to announce the end of a game hard-played, hard-fought, hard _won_ …and like he had felt when he had first signed for Bayern all that time ago…like _this_.  
  
Fully.  
  
Fiercely.  
  
_Finally_.  


 

ϟ

  
  
Not much changed after that.  
  
The dates they went on together felt just like regular time spent together, the moments they held hands felt just as right as before, and the vulnerable moments together were filled with just as much trust as before. But now there were more kisses, more tender-hearted openness, more sweet words spoken than unspoken…  
  
And when Sehun would openly pick up Jongdae from practice when he had the time, his teammate glanced at them curiously…but no longer did they accuse him of spreading lies to the press like this.  
  
“Is he your…” someone quietly asked him one day during training as Sehun watched with the public near the fences.  
  
“He’s Sehun…my Sehun,” Jongdae answered loudly with a smile before running off to score a beautiful penalty.  
  
That was vague enough to protect both of their careers, but not so vague enough that his teammates could guess.  
  
At the same time, Jongdae began receiving more and more time to play. He scored a few goals here and there…it was nothing like his prolific first season, but that was okay.  
  
He didn’t have to prove himself to anyone anymore but himself, and since he was doing great on his own terms and standards, he was content. And that was enough.  


 

ϟ

  
  
After securing another DFB Pokal Cup win, the only major tournament left of the season to play and hopefully win was the Champions League, and Jongdae and the rest of his Bayern teammates flew abroad to play Real Madrid for the final match. The last time Bayern won against Real Madrid in a major competition was unfortunately in 2012, and the entire team was both determined and nervous about the game, hoping to finally win the Champions League and secure the treble victory. Not many players could say they had won the treble or the Champions League in their whole careers, but for Jongdae, he was already thankful and satisfied with being able to play in the final at all.  
  
On the day of the game, he showed up to the foreign stadium with his undercut beautifully styled upwards for such a big day. As soon as they saw Bayern exiting their club bus to head inside, reporters instantly approached and shouted questions at Jongdae and his teammates as they were trying to walk in.  
  
_Can you explain how you got picked for the starting lineup even though you have been out on injuries?  
  
Do you think that you will get reinjured again during today’s game?  
  
Are you hopeful you’ll score today?_  
  
Jongdae simply smiled before telling them that it would be nice to score goals of course, but he was more focused on his team’s performance and hoping that they’d do more than enough to finally win.  
  
When it was almost time for the game to start, Jongdae sat calmly with the rest of his teammates, the crest that was stitched onto his jersey feeling almost as if it was burning his heart. But soon, Ancelotti finally came down to the locker room to give his final talk before the game.  
  
“Today, believe it or not, is the day of yet another Champions League final we’re playing at. Three finals in three years. How many have we won?” he said as he looked out into the crowd, “None…That’s right. I know we’re still devastated to have come so close so many times, and it’s been hard to fly home the losers after such games/ But today? Today…What are we going to do?”  
  
Jongdae and his teammates sat in a moment longer of silence before erupting into yells as they shouted their answers.  
  
“You’re damn _right_ ,” Ancelotti yelled back, “We’re going to _win_ here and send Real Madrid back home the _losers_ …There’s nothing else we can prepare now. We’ve been all over the strategies, what to do, how to play…So this is it. This is it. Let’s win that Champions League trophy. Let’s _win_.”  
  
With that, the team yelled and cheered, and surely from how loud they were, the other team should have been able to hear them.  
  
And Jongdae, after suffering the biggest slumps and disappointments of his career, was no longer afraid of failing. He was at the Champions League final after all, and he was so ready….so ready to get out there and start playing and start winning.  
  
When his team lined up next to Real Madrid, many players shook hands with and greeted players they were friendly and acquainted with. But Jongdae didn’t know most of Real Madrid, so he simply kept to himself and jumped up and down before realizing he was probably disturbing the kid beside him who was looking at him admiringly.  
  
“I know you! You’re Kim Jongdae,” the kid beamed beside Jongdae, causing him to feel so…so validated. Relieved. Accepted.  
  
“Really? Thank you,” Jongdae smiled before winking at the kid, “I’ll win the Champions League for you today, alright?”  
  
“Really? You will?” the child’s face burst into a grin as she looked at Jongdae with such awe.  
  
“Yes. Of course,” Jongdae smiled.  
  
And when both teams burst out of the waiting tunnels and walked out onto the pitch to line up and listen to the Champions League anthem before the game started, nothing could really prepare Jongdae for seeing Bayern’s fans.  
  
Nothing could prepare him every time he played in front of them anyways.  
  
It was just….an incredible feeling to see all those red jerseys cheering around the stadium, around the world…and to know that they all loved this club as much as he and his teammates loved it.  
  
He didn’t want to disappoint them, this club, and especially himself, so as Philipp Lahm went to take the coin toss as everyone moved into position, Jongdae took a deep breath.  
  
He could do this.  
  
He would do this.  
  
As the referee’s whistle blew, Jongdae leapt into action and ran across the pitch, suddenly feeling as if he was flying among the clouds while the wind blew through his hair. Thomas Müller started the action of the game as he pressed onwards, trying to work his way around a few Real Madrid players.  
  
But after Thomas started a potential play, he passed the ball backwards, back towards Bayern’s goal before running ahead.  
  
Real Madrid kept a player marking him, but most of their attention shifted to attempting to win the ball back. It was always anyone’s mistake to forget about Thomas Müller, though, and as Lewandowski ran towards the goal and shot the ball, Thomas seemingly emerged out of nowhere to accept the pass and score as if it was second nature.  


 

_GOOOOOOAAAAAAL!!!!!!! GOAL FOR BAYERN MUNICH BY THOMAS MÜLLER AFTER ONLY 10 MINUTES OF PLAY!!!! HE JUST SO EASILY RECEIVES LEWANDOWSKI’S PASS AND SHOOTS IT INTO THE GOAL WITHOUT A SECOND THOUGHT. BAYERN ARE UP AHEAD 1-0 RIGHT NOW WITH THIRTY-FIVE MINUTES LEFT TO GO IN THE FIRST HALF, BUT REAL MADRID HAVE MORE THAN ENOUGH TIME TO EQUALIZE._

  
  
After the shock goal, Real Madrid seemed stunned, but had quickly gained their composure back after just a few minutes of doubtful playing. Soon enough, they seized possession of the ball and attempted to find an opening through Bayern’s lineup to try to score a goal.  
  
Again and again and again they tried to find any openings to exploit, but today, Bayern’s defense lead by Philipp Lahm did not allow any of them to score.  
  
But perhaps counterattacks would always be one of Bayern’s weaknesses, as after a blocked shot from Lewandowski, Real Madrid seized the ball and raced forward towards the other side of the pitch as Bayern struggled to catch up to them. And soon enough…they had conceded.  


 

_GOOOOOOAAAAAAL!!!!!!! GOAL FOR REAL MADRID BY CRISTIANO RONALDO!!!! HE DOES WHAT HE DOES BEST AS HE BEATS MANUEL NEUER TO SEND IN A WELL-DELIVERED SHOT!!! REAL MADRID HAVE NOW TIED BAYERN 1-1._

  
  
Jongdae watched for a second as Ronaldo yelled, punching his fist through the air before his teammates fell upon him.  
  
Goal celebrations, especially extravagant, overly emotional ones might seem extra or unneeded, but honestly what else could they do when they scored? It was such a magnificent feeling…a feeling of triumph, of relief, of power all in this one moment.  
  
But after Real Madrid’s goal, both teams failed to secure any other chances or shots on target for a while until the beginning of the second half after both teams were reenergized and inspired after the break. Manuel Neuer thankfully saved a recent Real Madrid shot on target, placing his gloved hand out as if to reassure the crowd that it was _okay_ he _saved_ it before he dropped the ball to the grassy field and kicked it.  
  
The ball sailed over the pitch, and Jongdae ran with his eyes to the sky, following the ball until Real Madrid’s Gareth Bale managed to head it before it landed. But before Bale’s teammates could seize possession, Jongdae raced ahead and snatched up the ball, taking advantage of the situation to head towards Real Madrid’s goal as fast as he could.  
  
He wildly looked around for anyone to pass to…but there were no openings, and no one was as far ahead as he was.  
  
So the chance was his.  
  
What could hurt if he tried anyways?  
  
And so he continued his run down the pitch as Real Madrid’s defenders could not stop him…failed to stop him. The goal was in his sights, the ball dancing between his feet, and without any hesitation, Jongdae took his chance and skillfully kicked the ball towards the net.  


 

_GOOOOOOAAAAAAL!!!!!!! GOAL FOR BAYERN MUNICH!!!!! WHAT A GOAL FROM KIM JONGDAE WOW!!!! MY GOD IN THAT MOMENT WHEN HE SCORED HE LOOKED TWENTY-FOUR AGAIN…HOW STUNNING, ABSOLUTELY STUNNING!!! THE SCORE IS NOW EASILY IN BAYERN’S FAVOR AS THEY’RE AHEAD 2-1._

  
  
It was too early to cry since the game was still going on, since Bayern hadn’t won yet, since Bayern hadn’t lost yet. But in that moment, Jongdae felt the tears blur his vision and his shoulders begin to shake just a bit as the stadium announcer declared his goal.  
  
“IN THE FIFTY-THIRD MINUTE…GOOOOOOOOALLLL FOR FC BAYERN MUNICH BY THE PLAYER WITH THE NUMBER THIRTY-THREE!!!”  
  
Vaguely he could see red blobs surround him around the stadium, and he fell to his knees, overwhelmed with emotion as he was unable to even get up for a moment. But hands...hands reached out to thump his back, tousle his hair, and he didn’t feel alone…never alone. He was never alone even when he felt it the most. He realized that now.  
  
“KIM!!!” the announcer yelled, waiting for Bayern’s fans to answer.  
  
_Jongdae!_ answered the crowd fully.  
  
“KIM!” the announcer yelled.  
  
_Jongdae!_ answered the crowed fiercely.  
  
“KIIIIIIIIM!”  
  
_JONGDAE!!!!_ answered the crowd finally.  
  
This sport…this fucking sport was filled with too many emotions, and somehow after hearing the crowd encourage him and praise him and call his name, Jongdae found the strength to keep playing.  
  
But Real Madrid answered with a goal twenty minutes later, tying up the score to an even 2-2. Bayern would have to play extra time now in order to see if any victor would be crowned in the final moments, but unfortunately, the thirty minute extra period passed without any major chances for either side.  


 

_WITH EXTRA TIME GONE AND GOALLESS, BAYERN MUNICH AND REAL MADRID WILL FACE OFF IN A PENALTY SHOOTOUT TO DETERMINE THIS YEAR’S CHAMPIONS LEAGUE WINNER._

  
  
Penalty shootouts…  
  
Honestly both watching and playing penalty shootouts were two of the most stressful experiences ever. Penalty shootouts were not so much a measure of skill, but more so of composure, of mental strength, and a bit of best luck.  
  
Bayern discussed who were to take the shots, and if everything went their way, only five players would be needed to wrap the game up.  
  
Müller, Lahm, Lewandowski, Alaba, and…  
  
Jongdae.  
  
“Me?” Jongdae incredulously asked before accepting his fate and nodding, “Me. Okay…Okay. I’ll make it in for everyone.”  
  
And of course, he would go last…  
  
Moments later, he stood, lined up with his teammates as everyone placed their arms around each other’s shoulders for support as Müller walked alone to the pitch to take the first penalty.  
  
Jongdae watched as his heart hammered in his chest, mentally urging on Thomas as he ran towards the ball and swiftly kicked it into the net.  


 

_GOAL FOR BAYERN MUNICH BY THOMAS MÜLLER!!!! MÜLLER EASILY SENDS THE BALL FLYING INTO THE BACK OF THE NET, AND NOW IT’S CRISTIANO RONALDO’S TURN TO TAKE THE PENALTY._

  
  
Since Ronaldo was Ronaldo, everyone expected the penalty to go in of course…but Manuel Neuer looked confident in goal as he jumped up and down waiting for Ronaldo to make his shot.  


 

_GOAL FOR REAL MADRID BY RONALDO!!! MANUEL NEUER JUST BARELY MISSES RONALDO’S SHOT AS IT GRAZES PAST THE TIPS OF HIS FINGERS, BUT THE BALL GOES IN ANYWAYS._

  
  
Ahh…if only he saved the ball. Manuel Neuer gritted his teeth and moved to the side.  
  
Jongdae watched as the rest of his teammates one by one sent the balls flying into the goal effortlessly, and the pressure mounted as Real Madrid also scored every time.  
  
And suddenly it was his turn.  
  
If he made this shot, the penalty shootout would go onto sudden death if Real Madrid also scored, but if he didn’t…then Bayern would automatically lose if Real Madrid succeeded.  
  
The walk Jongdae took alone to the penalty box with all eyes on him felt like the longest walk he had ever taken.  
  
Once he reached the edge of the penalty box, Jongdae placed the ball at the edge of the white line, moved some steps back, and looked on up to the clouds before he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  
  
He remembered all those times when he was six and continually picking himself up again after slipping while dribbling around the grass, when he was sixteen and staying behind after practice to keep improving and working, when he was twenty and putting in all the extra work with a determined mind practicing his kicks and technique again and again and again until the world had no choice but to accept him as one of the best. And he remembered practicing penalty kicks with Sehun…his Sehun…swinging them again and again and again into the right corner so they wouldn’t hit Sehun.  
  
In a time like this, Jongdae had to trust that all the training he’d done….that all the work he’d done, that all the practice he’d done was all enough. That everything he did was enough. That he was enough.  
  
Jongdae took one last final breath, fixed his eyes on the white horizon of the straight goal lines and ran straight towards the ball before he kicked.  
  
And _scored_.  
  


 

_GOAL FOR BAYERN MUNICH!!!!! KIM JONGDAE CONVERTS THE PENALTY INTO A GOAL AND SENDS THE GOALKEEPER TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THE NET WOW!!!!! THE GERMAN GIANTS HAVE MADE ALL FIVE PENALTY SHOTS, SO THE PRESSURE IS ON REAL MADRID TO MAKE THEIR LAST PENALTY._

  
  
With a jubilant yell, Jongdae punched his fist through the air and ran all the way back to his screaming teammates as they eagerly and anxiously watched Real Madrid’s next penalty.  
  
_MISS, MISS, MISS_ they all whispered together.  
  
But it was Manuel Neuer’s moment to shine as he easily saved the low, slow shot, causing all of Bayern’s reserve team and staff to immediately leap up from the bench to run towards their yelling, ecstatic teammates who had all leapt and wept upon each other.  
  
_WE WON, WE WON, WE WON_ they all cried together.  
  
Jongdae fell to the pitch and raised his chin up to the skyline as he yelled in triumph.  
  
There were few moments sweeter, better, more beautiful than this…when all the tears and the hard work paid off for _this_ …for the end to a historic season with the Bundesliga season, the DFB Pokal, and now…the Champions League all won.  
  
“Mia san Mia” the crowd began to sing after the song came up on the stadium speakers while players sobbed through tear-streaked grins.  
  
And today Jongdae felt exactly what he was again.  
  
Who he was again.  
  
Himself.  


 

ϟ

  
  
After Bayern was presented their trophy and spent a long while celebrating on the pitch with loved ones, family members, children, Jongdae felt someone tap his shoulder.  
  
“Would you like an interview, Jongdae?” a familiar voice asked, and Jongdae turned away from the celebrations and the glorious victory as his mouth dropped open.  
  
“Sehun?” Jongdae whispered, wanting to ask since when had he taken on reporting and live journalism again.  
  
“That was some goal and some penalty, Jongdae,” Sehun smiled. Today his journalism glasses were nowhere in sight, and he stood confidently, looking both younger and older than he had ever looked before.  
  
Jongdae felt himself shakily exhale, wanting nothing more than to kiss him in front of the whole world with the stadium and the broadcasting cameras as witness…but this was work. So maybe one day.  
  
He smiled and simply thanked Sehun instead.  
  
“Jongdae…Wow…what a game from you,” Sehun admiringly said, “Those who were watching can all agree without a doubt that that was a beautiful game from you especially after scoring that goal and the winning penalty. But personally, how did you feel about your performance today? Of course you’ve won, but did you play like you wanted?”  
  
“Yes,” Jongdae breathed out, “I haven’t been this happy with my performance in a long time, and it was good to complete so many passes, to score that goal, to shoot that penalty, and to feel like myself again…I’m very satisfied with how I played, and I look forward to summer friendly games as well as hopefully helping South Korea win the Asian Cup ahead of us.”  
  
“You signed your official contract with Bayern after your loan finished earlier this season. If they asked you to extend it after it finished, would you?” Sehun asked.  
  
“You never know what happens in the future,” Jongdae began to say, “But I’d love to always. Bayern has been my dream, is my dream, and will always be my dream…and I would love to stay here as long as I can.”  
  
“Beautiful,” Sehun said, unable to help himself from staring so affectionately even though this was broadcasted on live television. Jongdae wasn’t any better, and though he easily and thoughtfully answered Sehun’s questions, he was doing all he could to limit his fondness to not a held hand, not a deep embrace, not a fierce kiss, but just a sweet smile.  
  
“I’m sure Bayern would be lucky to have you with them as long as they can,” Sehun continued, “But you’ve been injured many times unfortunately. Do you think you’d be able to handle anything that comes your way? More injuries? More losses? More unknown factors that might impact your career?”  
  
Football was unpredictable, Anything could happen now and in the future. Maybe South Korea would lose the 2019 Asian Cup. Or not. Maybe Jongdae would get injured again. Or not. Maybe Jongdae would play with Bayern until he retired and ceased his football career. Or not.  
  
But today, as Jongdae took a moment to collect his thoughts and to tilt his chin upwards to gaze at the sky, not a single cloud appeared above him today, and Jongdae felt as if he did it. He had finally been able to touch the clouds and pull his wispy dreams and floating ambitions to him…fulfilled at last.  
  
“Yes. Of course,” Jongdae looked back and smiled, knowing that he would be able overcome and survive whatever came at him with his confident poise, his shoulders back, and his chin up.  
  
Because of this.  
  
“Because I’m Kim Jongdae.”


End file.
